


The Birth of a Friend: a Michael and Daniel Story

by ObsessedtwibrarianOTB



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Historical, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 112,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB/pseuds/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB
Summary: A chance meeting in a small village tavern in England in 1641 brings Morgan's (aka Michael) killing spree to an end, and changes his life forever.





	1. The Tavern

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first story I wrote featuring my original characters, Michael Golland and Daniel Hart. It was a Twilight fanfic—the story adheres to Stephenie Meyer's vampire mythology—but the only Twilight characters that appear in this story are Jane and two other Volturi. The rest is based upon the lives of my two ORIGINAL characters. Even if you don't like Twilight, I would love it if you gave this story a chance based on its own merits. :) 
> 
> Also, this story is NOT graphic gay porn. This is a story of two men who are emotionally suffering and who meet each other at just the right time to save each other. 
> 
> Later, someone suggested I should write a modern, all-human version of Michael and Daniel's relationship, so my completely original story, Silent Scream, was born. But this vampire version is very dear to me, as it gave birth to two of the most wonderful characters I've ever created and, in my opinion, it's the best thing I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Some background before you start: 
> 
> Michael Golland (aka Morgan Grant) is a centuries old vampire. He lost his wife, Asha, a long time ago. She was murdered by Aro. Since her death, he has been on a 500 year killing spree as a way of dealing with his grief, since he can't kill the man who is responsible (Aro.) This story opens on the night of October 15, 1641, what would have been his and Asha's 539th wedding anniversary were she still alive.

A new start  
With hammering heart  
We color the world with our dream  
Nothing is as it did seem  
The darkness of my solitude is done  
[He] - my rising sun.

\---excerpted from the poem “Love Survives” by Robert K. Charron ₁

 

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

_**A small rural village in England---October 15, 1641** _

**~ MICHAEL ~**

Her neck was long and graceful, her body lush and eager. She pulled her dark hair back across her shoulders, and then leaned seductively over the end of the bar, allowing the low-cut bodice of her dress to gape open for me. Her dark eyes flashed in my direction and then quickly darted away, only to return a few moments later full of heat and desire. My first victim in what promised to be a long night of death and pleasure.

I sat alone at a table tucked away in a shadowy corner of the tavern and enjoyed the display. My hands nestled a tankard of ale to give the appearance that I was nothing more than one of thirty other thirsty and raucously laughing males occupying the dim, smoky space. In truth, I wasn’t thirsty at all, nor was I in the mood to laugh. I was angry.  My once-yearly rampage of blood and death was upon me. October 15. What should have been a day to celebrate, perhaps with a stroll in the moonlight and lovemaking under the stars, had turned into an annual bloodbath. Before the night was done, the lovely barmaid would take on a striking resemblance to Aro, just before her lifeless and bloodless body fell to the ground at my feet. I looked forward to killing him many times over before this night was through.

“Hello. May I?”

Without bothering to wait for my approval, a man sat down at my table and scooted his chair closer to my right, until he was almost sitting on top of me. Despite his delicious smell, I gave him a quick glare of dismissal and then rudely turned away from him.

The woman was smiling coyly in my direction—a silent invitation. It would only be a matter of thirty minutes or less before she would leave with me willingly, and embrace her death with open arms. I hoped that she’d fight me, which would be a nice change. A passive human paralyzed with fear was no fun at all. Begging and screaming made it so much more enjoyable.

“You have nice hands,” the man said quietly.

 _What a strange way to start a conversation_. I turned and gave him a puzzled stare, but he was looking straight ahead, his own hands cradling a bottle.

“One can only imagine the things you could do with them,” he continued softly, so that only I could hear.

“You don’t want to know,” I answered shortly. “Now leave me alone.”  I turned my attention back to the woman. She’d come around to the front of the bar and now sat on a stool facing me. She boldly stared in my direction as she ran her hand down the side of her neck and continued on down her torso, her fingers lightly brushing her breast as she went. A strong rush of lust shot through my body as I watched her fingers move.

“I imagine that whatever you do with them, you do it well,” the man said, his sigh filled with longing.

His comment startled me out of my reverie. I’d forgotten he was even there while I’d been watching the woman. I ignored him and kept my gaze focused on the barmaid. Her hand moved languorously back to her chest, where she idly ran a finger in circles on her bare skin. Her nipples were erect and straining against the tight fabric stretched across her ample chest. She knew I wanted her and we both knew we were leaving together. What she _didn’t_ know was that she wouldn’t be coming back.

“Are you aware that every set of eyes in this room has been on you all night?” the man asked softly.

I gritted my teeth and fought off the desire to strangle him right then and there so he’d at least stop talking. I turned to look at him, but he was still staring straight ahead.

“Some are merely curious as to who you are. You’re obviously new around here. Some want to take you outside and kick your arse just for sport, because they have nothing better to do. A couple of them want to do more… _intimate_ … things with you, like her, for instance.” He nodded his head in the woman’s direction. Then he finally turned and met my puzzled gaze. “And me,” he added with a small smile.

My temper flared. I had no interest in what anyone thought of me, or what anyone wanted to do to me or with me at that particular moment. “Leave. Me. Alone,” I snarled.

He ignored my rudeness and turned until he was facing me. “That woman that you keep staring at? She’s the town whore. Every man around here has sampled her wares.” Then he smiled and chuckled softly. “Every man except for me, that is.” Then the smile disappeared. “Trust me, you don’t want any of that, not unless you have some deep-seeded desire to get a monumental dose of the clap.”

I turned slightly and glared at him. My patience with him was nearing its very short end. “Mind your own damned business,” I snapped and then turned my attention back to the woman.

She was smiling at me now. Her fingers trailed delicately down the long expanse of her neck. She was obviously a peasant, but her neck could have easily belonged to a noble woman. I imagined running my lips down the length of it, feeling the pulse of her heart beneath the skin. I could almost feel the tearing of it underneath my teeth and the silkiness of her blood pooling in my mouth, while I buried my body deep inside of her.

He leaned closer to me, bathing me in his mouthwatering smell, and whispered under his breath, “I’m offering you the same thing she is, except I’m better at it. I promise you that. And no clap either.”

I turned and studied this man who was beginning to annoy me to the point of murderous distraction. He looked to be in his twenties, with short dark hair, and a high forehead. He had a straight nose, not too large or too small, a full bottom lip that I imagined some women would find attractive, and deep brown eyes that were sparkling with amusement.  “You’re a pushy, arrogant bastard,” I observed dryly.

He laughed softly. “I prefer the words ‘persistent’ and ‘confident’. I have no problem with the word ‘bastard’ however, since I’ve been called much worse. Come with me to my house. It’s not far. You can do everything with me that you were contemplating doing with her. Anything you desire, I’ll do it.”

Now he had my attention. The woman’s neck was much lovelier than his, but his scent was intoxicating. In the end, blood was blood and he would die just as easily in my embrace as the woman. I had a lot of killing to do before this night was done. He would be a nice, mouthwatering start. If he wanted sex before his death, it would be a small sacrifice on my part, merely a short detour on the road to the _real_ pleasure. My sexual tastes didn’t run to men, but there was a first time for everything, I supposed.

“Very well,” I said, nodding politely. He grinned crookedly and then threw a smug smile at the barmaid. She glared at us both as we walked through the tavern. I felt the suspicious eyes of every male in the room on my back as I followed the man out the door and into the cool night.

We walked approximately a mile through the darkness on a narrow and rutted dirt road. He led the way, clutching his coat tightly to his body to shut out the cold. I followed closely behind him, oblivious to the temperature, and anticipating the hours of pleasure that lay ahead of me. Neither one of us broke the silence of the night with unneeded conversation.

We came upon his house shortly—a small, neatly-kept cottage with a thatched roof. It was pushed up snugly against a thick stand of trees. Very isolated and private. _Perfect._ Once inside, I shed my overcoat at his request. He silently hung it on a peg by the door, right next to his. I quickly took in the dimly-lit interior of the small house as he talked about things that held no interest to me: the offer of food and drink and the use of the privy. I refused them all with a silent shake of my head.

The house was small and warm, and surprisingly neat. A small fire burned in the stone fireplace across the room. A wooden rocker sat near it. A rather large bed was pushed up against an adjoining wall. A scarred wooden desk and chair hugged the wall closest to the front door. Plain white curtains hung limply at the two windows. A dark doorway in the far corner obviously led to another part of the house—a kitchen perhaps? Or another bedroom? Several small candles provided what little light there was to be had. I saw nothing personal that would tell me anything about the man who now stood before me devouring me with his dark eyes. Not that it mattered. He was going to be dead by morning, maybe even sooner.

He stepped closer to me. His eyes were in constant motion as they swept over my face, my chest, and lower down. He was studying me brazenly, and he cared not what I thought about it.  

“Have you ever done this before? Had sex with a man?” he asked quietly. His eyes came to rest on my mouth and stayed there for awhile.

“No,” I answered.

“So you like women.” He snorted softly in derision and moved a step closer. My throat burned at the smell of him. He breathed his sweet breath over my face as he spoke in a hushed voice. “Only a man can bring another man true pleasure. We know what it feels like to ache with longing. We know the exquisite pain of arousal and what to do to relieve it. We know where to touch and how hard or how soft our fingers must caress and stroke that silken shaft. We know when to stop and how to prolong the pleasure for our partner. A woman must learn all of those things, and even then she may not do them well. But we men, we know them instinctively.”

The man was very persuasive, I had to hand him that. His words, and the images that they brought forth in my mind, stirred me with their seductiveness. His scent wasn’t hurting his argument either. A hunger was slowing growing in my throat and in my loins.

He tugged my shirt out of my breeches and began loosening the buttons at the top. His eyes stayed riveted on my face as he worked. When he reached the end of the buttons, he grasped the bottom of my shirt and began raising it up my chest. I lifted my arms above my head and allowed him to pull it off. It drifted to the floor and was forgotten.

I watched his dark eyes trace the contours of my shoulders, arms, chest and stomach. His fingers soon followed the same path his eyes had taken. “You are someone who should never wear clothes,” he commented softly.

My only response was to close my eyes and savor the heat of his fingers running lightly across my skin. My hair began to stand on end. Chill bumps spread like wildfire all over my body.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Do you want me to add a log to the fire?”

I shook my head and sighed. This was much more pleasant than I’d thought it would be. Killing him was going to be an experience unlike any I’d ever had before. He wouldn’t be the first to die in my arms in the throes of sexual release, but he’d be the first _man_ to do it.

“I have something I simply must tell you,” he said. My eyes flew open as his hot fingertips brushed against my cheek and then ran slowly along the line of my jaw. “You are the most beautiful man that I have ever seen.“

Then he kissed me, very unexpectedly and very lightly. He tasted faintly of some sort of alcohol, and smelled of the smoke that had permeated the air in the tavern. Surprisingly, his lips were soft and warm, just like a woman’s. Only the tiniest bit of stubble on his upper lip served to remind me that it was, in fact, a man who was kissing me. His lips lingered only a few moments on mine, but it was long enough. With that brief meeting of our mouths, he’d sparked something primal in me, something fierce and dangerous.

“Take off your boots and your stockings,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

He stepped back a few steps to give me room. I felt his eyes on me as I tugged off my boots and tossed them in the general direction of the front door. I loosened the ties that cinched my breeches at my knees, and then pulled off the linen hose. I rose back up and watched him mirror my actions. When we were both bare-footed and bare-legged, he moved closer to me once again.

“From the moment you walked into that tavern tonight, my eyes never left you,” he continued. His hands moved to the fastenings of my breeches. He worked at them expertly while he talked. “I’d never seen anyone quite like you, especially not in this hell hole.” For the first time, I detected a faint undercurrent of bitterness and anger in his voice.

A question burned in my mouth and I spoke it before I thought. “Are you a prostitute?”

His eyes flashed angrily. I thought for a moment I’d offended him, but instead his temper quickly calmed. “No, I don’t do this for money, only for pleasure. And I’m very good at things I take great pleasure in. Remember that.” Then he grinned crookedly and chuckled. “But if you feel you must compensate me in some way, then screaming my name as you come will suffice.”

I smiled despite myself. “You are one arrogant bastard, you know that?”

He laughed and tugged my breeches down past my hips. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that already.” They fell to the floor and my undergarment soon followed. I heard a sharp intake of breath and a soft moan.

“God, I mistook you for a small man,” he said breathlessly, raising his eyes to meet mine.

“If I’m not mistaken, we’re standing eye-to-eye,” I said with an amused smirk.

“Not what I meant,” he murmured softly and then dropped his eyes. I’d known exactly what he’d meant.

He trailed his fingers lightly down the length of me. The heat from them felt like tiny flames licking at my shaft. I moaned softly as he continued to stroke me.

“God was very generous with you, my friend,” he said, his breathing ragged and deep. “You are so very beautiful, and so incredibly perfect. I have never felt so drawn to another person in my life.”

We were very close to taking this conversation over to the bed. It was time for him to know exactly who he was giving himself to. I could hardly wait for the begging and the screaming to start. “There’s a reason for that, you know,” I said, pulling his hand away from my body.

“A reason for what?” he asked.

“A reason for why you couldn’t take your eyes off of me. A reason why you feel so drawn to me. A reason you think I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.”

“And what is it?” he asked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. He was confused at the strange turn our encounter had taken.

 _Time to test the mettle of the man standing before me_. “It’s because I am a vampire.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied me. A myriad of emotions swept across his face in an instant. Disbelief. Suspicion. Curiosity. Anger. Disbelief again. “Are you serious?” he asked. The barest hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

I ruthlessly held onto his gaze and when I answered my voice was low and calm. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

The beginnings of his arrogant smile quickly faded. I waited in anticipation for the best part. I wanted to hear him beg me not to kill him. I wanted him to plead for his life on his knees. I wanted him to fight me with every ounce of strength he possessed in that fragile human body of his. I wanted to watch the light leave his eyes as I emptied myself inside of him. Then I wanted to drink from him until I was sated. The fact that he was dark-haired and arrogant like Aro made it even better.

“No, you don’t appear to be joking,” he said slowly. He studied me for a few moments more, then he laughed softly. “Well then, this is going to be a night of firsts for both of us: you with a man and me with a vampire.”

I had to admit that at that moment he threw me totally off balance. I’d never met a human who hadn’t fallen completely apart at the realization that they were in the company of a vampire. He was either very courageous or very stupid. I was trying to decide which it was when he closed the distance between us and ground his mouth onto mine. This was no gentle kiss. It was hot, demanding and hard. His hands wove their way into my hair and fistfuls of it became entangled in his fingers. His tongue pushed between my lips and snaked its way into my mouth. It felt like the hot flame of a candle burning my tongue and licking at my teeth. His mouth pulled at mine relentlessly. _The man can kiss_. In just a few short moments, my body was once again aroused to its full length. He finally broke the kiss and stepped back away from me. His chest was heaving as if from great exertion; his breathing was rough and deep, and his scent was strong in the room.

“Shall I disrobe, or would you like to do the honors?”

I gaped at him in astonishment. Never had a human left me at such a loss for words, and never had I wanted one as badly as I wanted this man. I wanted him in every way possible. He muttered a profane curse when I continued to stand there silent and motionless. He then began to untie the strings at the top of his shirt himself. In an instant, my fingers were wrapped around his wrist. “I’ll do it,” I whispered.

He hesitated, and then smiled. A little of his haughtiness was pushing its way back to the surface. I repeated the process he’d followed with me. I tugged his shirt out of his breeches, untied the lacings at the top, and then pulled it over his head. I loosened the buttons of his fly and pushed his breeches down past his hips and to the floor. The absence of any undergarment surprised me for a moment, but I soon forgot about it as I drank in the sight of him.

He was my same height, but our builds were completely different. Where my shoulders were of a normal width, his were much wider. His arms were thick and roped with muscle; mine were thinner and leaner. A light dusting of curly, dark hair was spread across his chest. Mine was bare. His stomach was flat and hard, his waist narrow and slim. His legs, especially his thighs, were heavy and muscular. This was a compact, yet powerful, man standing before me.

“God didn’t quite favor me as much as he did you,” he said. “But I can promise you, I make excellent use of what I _do_ have.” The soft seductive laughter that followed sent a thrill through my body. I was aching for this man in so many ways. I wanted to posses him, consume him, and then kill him very slowly. I wanted to drink in his scent, run my tongue over his skin, and taste his blood in my mouth.

My aloofness and control completely crumbled. I pulled him roughly to me and was rewarded with a soft gasp from him. I savored his hardness rubbing against my stomach as I touched my mouth to every part of his face. He groaned softly when my lips brushed briefly over his as I kissed my way across his jaw and then finally down to his neck. His fingers dug shallow furrows into my sides as I slowly tasted his skin.

“You smell so good,” I whispered huskily against his neck. “And you taste even better.” I gathered the skin directly over his jugular between my teeth and sucked at it hard. I bit him lightly—not enough to break the skin—and my body twitched against his in response. I felt him stiffen in my arms and go very still. He broke our embrace and took a step back.

“Are you going to kill me?” he asked quietly. Instead of fear, I saw an intense curiosity burning in his eyes, and some other emotion I couldn’t identify.

“Yes… _after_ ,” I answered truthfully. _Here it comes. The screaming and the begging…_

Then he surprised me once again. A crooked grin spread across his face. “Then I’d better make sure this is the best night of my life, especially if it’s going to be the last.”

His flippancy startled me, and angered me as well. “Do you think I jest?” I asked harshly.

“Oh no, I believe you,” he answered.

“Don’t you fear death?” I let go of my anger, because this man intrigued me. He was an enigma. He wasn’t reacting normally and I burned to know why.

He chuckled softly. “No. I fear life more.” Then he hesitated before continuing. “So tell me, what is the name of the man who would end my life tonight in such a delicious manner?” The small arrogant smile was back.

“Michael,” I answered without elaboration. “And yours?”

“Daniel.”

He sank to his knees on the wooden floor and placed his hot palms on either side of my thighs. He raised his dark eyes upward and gazed at me along the line of my stomach.  “You’re going to love this, Michael. I promise you."

I closed my eyes and moaned deeply as I slid into the blinding heat of his mouth. Unfortunately he wasn’t going to love what I planned on doing to _him._  


*******************************************  


I sat, fully dressed, in the rocker by the fire and watched Daniel sleep. He was sprawled on his back, the blankets thrown haphazardly off of his body, leaving his nakedness in full view of my gaze. I swept my eyes over every inch of him, taking my time and studying each small segment of his body. The glare of daylight revealed a puzzling story. There was a vicious scar just below his ribs, a pale slash of tough, poorly healed skin that brought to mind the quick slice of a small knife. The ghostly purple shadow of a rather large bruise spread across his lower left side, near his kidney. How had it gotten there? There was a large puckered scar on his right thigh, also poorly healed. Two fingers were crooked on his right hand, like they’d been broken long ago, but not set properly. It seemed that Daniel led a rough and brutal life.

I’d been very careful with him during our exertions, but he hadn’t felt the same caution with me. Of course, he hadn’t hurt me, but he’d impressed me. He was immensely strong for a human, a muscular man used to hard work or, more likely— after examining his body— hard fighting. For all his arrogance and good humor, I sensed a dark underlying current of hatred in him. It wasn’t hard to recognize it in another. The same angry current raged deep within me, as well.

At some point in the middle of the night I’d decided not to kill him. He was the most fascinating human I’d met in a very long time. I admired his courage in the face of my announcement that I was going to kill him. It hadn’t seemed to bother him in the least that his life was going to end by morning. What type of man could brush aside his own safety in such a carefree manner? Was it really courage or just the foolhardiness of youth? Or was it something else entirely? For the first time in a long, long while someone intrigued me. I wanted to know more about this man.

He sighed deeply and then turned over onto his side. His change in position only lasted a few moments before he rolled back over onto his back. He slowly opened his eyes, and then searched the bed for me. When he realized I wasn’t there, he propped himself up on one elbow and located me sitting by the fireplace. “Well, what do you know? I’m not dead,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. Then he looked at me and smirked. “Some vampire you are.”

“I’ll probably kill you tonight,” I answered, nearly smiling despite my wish to appear threatening.

He snorted and then laughed a haughty laugh. “What is this? Some twisted version of _One Thousand and One Nights_? Are you going to threaten to kill me every day, while I perform perverted sex acts upon your body every night in an effort to prolong my pitiful human life?”

“It would do you no good,” I answered, smiling now. “I’d enjoy your perverted acts and then kill you anyway.”

“Aah, so you enjoyed it?” he asked hesitantly.

“I prefer women, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant experience,” I answered.

“See? I told you.” He chuckled and then grew serious. He stared at me for a few moments, his face expressionless. I couldn’t discern the nature of his thoughts and that piqued my interest even more. “Why didn’t you kill me?” he finally asked.

“You sound disappointed,” I said.

He shrugged. “I don’t seek out death, but when it finally finds me, I don’t plan on running from it like a coward.”

_Interesting._

“You didn’t answer me. Why didn’t you kill me?”

“Some people are too intriguing to kill, Daniel.”₂

“Aah, so it's because I intrigue you,” he repeated back to me. “And that’s why you didn’t kill me.” His eyes suddenly grew dark and hard. “You know what? I think you’re a lying bastard. You’re no vampire. I don’t know what in the hell you _really_ are, but it isn’t that.“

“You don’t believe me?” I asked, astonished once again at his boorish arrogance. Did the man not realize the seriousness of his situation?

“No. I don’t.” His eyes challenged me from across the room.

“Surely you noticed my cold skin, my cold mouth, and you most certainly had to notice my cold cock up your arse,” I said with an arrogance that matched his.

“Do you think me a fool? Of course I noticed.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “You probably suffer from some rare medical affliction that no one’s ever heard of, but you’re not a vampire. That’s superstitious nonsense and you’re nothing but a fucking liar.”

My temper flared to life at his continuing insolence. In an instant, so quick that he didn’t realize what had happened, his bare back was jammed up against the far wall, his feet swinging two feet above the floor and my hand closed tightly around his neck, effectively pinning him to the wooden wall like a badly hung painting. I squeezed, just a little, just enough to start closing off his throat to the passage of air. He made soft choking sounds as his fingers dug hard into my forearms. His eyes, however, blazed down at me in unadulterated fury. But to his credit, he didn’t cry out, didn’t ask for mercy or release. He simply endured as best as he could, considering he was breathing his last breaths. _Daniel, you are a very strong-willed and courageous man._

When his face started to pale, I eased my grip and slid his body slowly down the wall until his feet were touching the floor again. I released him, and held his eyes as I backed away from him. I sat down calmly in the rocker by the fire as he coughed and gasped to bring air back into his lungs. His wary gaze never left my face.

“What do you want with me?” he whispered hoarsely, when he was finally able to speak.

“Companionship,” I blurted out without even thinking.

“That’s all?” he asked doubtfully. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“That’s all, I promise you.”

“I need the privy,” he muttered. I watched in silence as he threw on his breeches and pulled his coat over his bare chest. He stuck his bare feet into his boots and disappeared out the front door.

I thought about him while he was gone. Did he really intrigue me, or was it abject loneliness that had made me spare his life? Last night had been entertaining, but I had a suspicion it had meant more to him than it had to me. Why was I involving this man in my life?

He seemed to be a very troubled young man underneath his blustery exterior. I recognized his arrogance for what it really was: a cover for some raw and oozing wound festering deep down inside of him. I’d walked that road for five centuries. I knew it’s twists and turns well. Why should I add his troubles to my own? Was this a case of misery loving company? This was something I needed to think about more in depth, later. First things first, though.

He returned at that moment, shivering as he tossed his coat on the peg and shed his clothes. He stopped to warm himself by the fireplace, right beside where I sat in the rocker. His warm scent lingered after he’d left and crawled back underneath the blankets.  “You have on too many clothes,” he said with a sly grin. “Come back to bed, Michael.”

“I need to go out,” I announced.

“I was just out there. No one needs to go out today. It’s cold and the sky is stone gray. It might even snow before the day is out,” he said.

“Neither one bothers me. Besides, if you want to live through another night, then I need to hunt.” That stopped his protestations in their tracks.

“Hunt? As in…people?” he asked hesitantly.

I nodded.

He laughed bitterly. “I have a list of some people you could start with, right here in this piss poor excuse for a town.”

“I rarely hunt close to where I’m staying,” I said. “The chance of discovery is too great.”

“Ah, I see. That’s too bad,” he answered quietly, still eying me cautiously. “So where are you going?”

I arose and grabbed my overcoat from the peg beside the door. “London."

“Are you coming back… _here?_ ” he asked suddenly as I reached for the door latch.

I turned and smiled. “Yes, Daniel. I’ll return by sunset.”

I had to return, for I owed this man an enormous debt of gratitude. Because of him, no one had died at my hands last night, my first clean October 15th since Asha’s death. Perhaps this marked the beginning of the end of my rampages? Yes, I had much to thank him for.

“I’ll be waiting for you, then,” he said softly.

 

 

Footnotes:

1 - I changed the last line of the poem to read “he” instead of “she” for plot purposes  
2 – I must credit this line to Seth Grahame Smith which appeared in his book _Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter_. I changed it to read “intriguing” instead of “interesting”.


	2. Samuel

When I arrived back at Daniel’s cottage, he was just emerging from his front door, and seemed genuinely surprised to see me on his doorstep.

“Michael!” he exclaimed softly. “Uh, I wasn’t sure you were coming back. I was just headed out to get something to eat.”

“I told you I would return, did I not?”

“Yes, but it’s very late. I just assumed you…” He stopped as if unsure of what to say next. He scratched the side of his head and looked at the ground. “I just assumed you’d left for good.”

The absence of his characteristic arrogance threw me off balance. “I always keep my word,” I said. “So, where are you going?”

“To the tavern where we met last night. They make an excellent lamb pie. Would you like to join me?”

The hesitation in his voice and his entire demeanor puzzled me. Why the change? Perhaps my demonstration from this morning had been too much. “Of course. I would enjoy that.” Polite dinner conversation would be a good place to start in getting to know more about this intriguing man.

I stood aside as he closed and locked his door. As we had done last night, I trailed behind his silent form as we made our way down the rutted dirt road toward the tavern. I heard the raucous laughter of numerous men, obviously too much in their cups, long before we reached our destination.  Upon entering the tavern, I was assaulted with the smells of unwashed bodies and the sweet scent of human blood. It was a good thing for this small town that I was not thirsty tonight. We settled ourselves into a remote corner of the tavern that was couched in shadows. A rather plain, but friendly-looking woman soon approached our table.

“What for ye tonight?” She winked mischievously at Daniel.

“The usual,” he answered with a smile. “But, if you give me an extra helping of the pie, I’ll fix that broken gate at your house for free.” The cocky and confident Daniel had returned as he continued to barter with the waitress for extra food and drink in exchange for assorted odd jobs. I watched in amusement as he got his way with nothing but his charm and a smile. _Interesting._

He glanced my way. “Do you want anything?”

“No.” I chuckled softly. “I’ve already eaten. Thank you.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” he mumbled with embarrassment. “I’d forgotten about that.”

After the waitress left with his order, I complimented him. “Very impressive, Daniel.”

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

“The way you just doubled your order of food in return for what sounded to me like a minimal amount of work.” It seemed that Daniel had a talent for persuasion. Of course, if I’d stopped to think about it, he’d certainly persuaded me into doing something last night I’d never thought I’d ever do.

He shrugged and laughed. “It’s a gift.”

Our conversation stopped briefly when the waitress brought his drink, and then restarted as soon as she walked away. “So, what’s the rest of your name? Or must I forever refer to you as simply ‘Daniel’?”

He groaned softly and frowned. “Daniel Tobias Hart. God bless my poor father. Tobias was his given name. Luckily it’s only my middle name. And yours?”

“Michael Golland. No middle name,” I answered. “Where is your family, by the way?”

“Gone,” he answered, his eyes focused on his drink. “My mum died when I was thirteen, and my dad followed soon after. By the time I was fourteen I was on my own.”

“No siblings?”

He shook his head. “No. Just me.”

“How old are you?” I asked curiously.

“Twenty-two,” he answered.

So, he’d been on his own for eight years and was still alive to tell about it. _Impressive._ “How do you support yourself?” I asked.

“What’s with all of the questions?” he asked, frowning.

“Just curious. You intrigue me, remember?” I smiled to reassure him, but his frown was slow to disappear.

“I keep a garden that gives me all of the food I need. I do odd jobs for people when I run out or need a little money for some special reason.” He shrugged. “That’s basically it.” He took a big swallow of his drink before continuing. “I thought about joining the army a few months ago—to help the king in his little war with Parliament—but I figured I wouldn’t last any time at all in the military, so I gave up on that idea.”

“I would think that a strong man like you would be perfect for that sort of thing,” I offered.

He laughed softly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think the army would approve of where I like to stick my bayonet.”

I pondered that comment for a few moments, while he struggled not to laugh. “That’s a joke!” he guffawed. “You know, my bayonet? That’s my c–”

“I understand the joke,” I interrupted. “What I don’t understand is why that would even matter.”

He stared back at me in disbelief. “Where on earth have you been living? Sodomy is a capital crime. You’ll swing for it, from the gallows, my friend. Ever hear of John Atherton?”

When I shook my head, he explained further. “John Atherton was Lord Bishop of Waterford, and they hung him last year for buggery. They stretched his neck at Gallows Green. So now he’s dead as a stone, and all because he preferred a man to a woman.”

I digested that curious bit of information in silence, until an alarming thought occurred to me. “Is your life in danger because of what happened last night?” I asked softly so that only he could hear.

He chuckled bitterly. “No. Everyone in this town knows about me. They wouldn’t dare kill me. If they did then what would they do for fun?”

Before I could ask him to explain that statement, the waitress brought Daniel his food. I watched in silence for awhile as he leisurely went about the business of eating. When I tired of that, I took to surveying the room and its occupants. Most of the men were gathered at several tables that had been scooted together. They appeared to be deeply involved in quiet conversation. Occasionally they’d break out in raucous laughter, or jostle each other in fun. It didn’t escape my attention, however, that several of them periodically looked at us with suspicion. One man in particular wore an expression of unconcealed hatred on his face as he glared at Daniel’s back. That one bore watching.

“So, how old are you?” Daniel asked in between bites of lamb pie.

I turned my attention away from the men and back to him. “Twenty-one,” I answered slowly. “Plus a few odd years.”

One thick eyebrow arched with curiosity. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I was born in 1085, and then I was… _reborn_ …in 1106.” A look of profound shock washed over his face. His mouth dropped open, revealing the half-eaten food he’d been busily chewing.

He finally closed his mouth, swallowed and then swore softly. “Good God! That means you’re…” I watched him attempt the calculations in his head and then decided to make it easier for him.

“Five hundred and fifty-six years old,” I finished.

After the shock wore off, I waited for some other reaction. Disbelief? Or perhaps he’d deluge me with questions about the particulars on how such a thing was possible. But, true to his nature, he surprised me once again.

He quirked an eyebrow at me and grinned suggestively. “You look pretty damned good for an old man.” He laughed and I found myself laughing with him. He was the most unpredictable, yet entertaining person, I’d met in a long while.

He returned to his eating, occasionally laughing softly under his breath and stealing an amused glance at me while doing it. I smiled at him, and then turned my attention again to the room. _Aaah._ The barmaid was back at her perch at the end of the scarred wooden bar. She smiled seductively at me and then ran her tongue slowly over her lips. Her bodice dipped even lower tonight. I could see the pink edges of her nipples peeking out of it. She pushed her hair back from her neck and ran her fingers lightly down it. My body stirred at the sight, and even though I was no longer thirsty, the thought of her blood in my mouth made my throat burn like fire.

“Do I have to watch you ogle that whore the rest of the night?” He’d put down his eating utensil and was now staring me down with his dark eyes.

“No one said you had to watch,” I answered with a smirk. “Perhaps you could occupy yourself with something sweet? I’m sure the waitress will be accommodating. She seems quite fond of you.”

He mumbled something profane and shockingly crude underneath his breath and then upended his drink. He slammed the tankard down on the table when it was empty, and commenced to pick at the food left on his plate. “What in God’s name do you find attractive about her?” he muttered without looking at me.

“Her neck,” I answered quietly. “It’s stunning.”

He most certainly did not expect that answer. He frowned deeply and stole a quick glance at her. “What’s so stunning about it? It looks like an ordinary neck to me.”

I laughed softly in response. “You’d have to be a vampire to appreciate it. To us, that is the most seductive part of the human body. Hers is very long and delicate, like a swan’s.”

“So the rest of her doesn’t interest you.” He sounded relieved and returned to finishing up his meal.

“I didn’t say that.” I chuckled. “Her breasts are quite nice. Ample enough to swaddle a man’s cock as snug as a babe in a blanket.”

His face paled and a look of complete revulsion swept over it. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You’re purposely trying to ruin my meal.”

Yes, I was teasing him and found that I enjoyed it immensely. I waited until he’d filled his mouth with more food before continuing. “Have you never tasted a woman, Daniel? Dipped your head between her legs and ran your tongue slowly along her folds?”

He gagged and choked on his food. When he could finally talk, he sputtered, his dark eyes blazing with anger, “You bastard! I’m going to kick your arse for that!”

“You’re welcome to try,” I said, grinning widely.

Finally it dawned on him that I was teasing him. Slowly, his anger began to fade and a grudging smile appeared on his face. “Very funny, Michael, very funny. I hope you enjoyed amusing yourself at my expense.” He scooted his chair out from the table and stood. “I’m going to the privy. I feel an overwhelming need to purge myself after your disgusting comments.”

I laughed to myself as I watched Daniel walk away from the table and make his way to the door. I noticed that several sets of eyes also watched his progress across the room. He seemed oblivious to their attentions. When he exited the door, the man who’d looked at him before with such hatred, started for the entrance. My interest piqued immediately. Not long after, three more men followed him out. That was when my interest turned to alarm. I tossed some coins on the table for the waitress before heading for the door. Trouble was brewing and I had a bad feeling that Daniel was going to end up in the middle of it.

I was correct. I emerged out of the dimly lit room into the inky blackness of night and found a disturbing situation. The first man who had followed him out the door had Daniel backed up against the wall of the tavern. He was taller than Daniel, but only barely. He clutched a small dagger in his hand. It was pushed hard against Daniel’s side. The man’s three companions were waiting with nervous anticipation several feet away.

“Back away from him,” I ordered in a low, menacing voice.

“Mind your own damned business,” the man snarled. Then he pushed the knife harder and Daniel flinched in response. I didn’t smell blood, so he hadn’t managed to pierce his skin yet. There was still time.

I advanced on them slowly. It took only a few steps. “I said, back away from him.”

The man pulled his hand back, preparing to plunge the dagger deep into Daniel’s side. His hand never made it. My fingers were around his wrist before he knew what was happening. I squeezed hard and his grip on the dagger loosened. I grabbed it from him and in a split second it was at his throat. I moved him away from Daniel and then grasped his jaw roughly with my other hand, forcing him to look at me. “You don’t listen very well, do you my friend?” I hissed softly next to his cheek.

“You filthy son of a whore, get your hands off me!” He struggled and only succeeded in pushing the dagger even harder against his throat. “We have one too many buggers in this town,” he continued, his voice dripping with disgust. “We don’t need another one.”

I laughed softly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not one.”

“You’ve had his cock in your mouth and up your arse,” he snapped in fury. “That makes you a bugger in my book!”

Soft, arrogant laughter filtered in from behind me. Daniel. “Have you been amusing yourself outside my window again, Samuel? Don’t you know that sort of thing will make you go blind?”

The man Daniel had called ‘Samuel’ snarled with rage and struggled to free his face from my iron grasp. His three companions suddenly decided it was time to intervene on behalf of their friend, and began moving cautiously in our direction. “Don’t,” I ordered loudly. “I’ll slit his throat from ear to ear, and then you will be next.” Wisely, they backed away and then disappeared into the night like ghostly shadows.

I turned my attention to the man. “Now Samuel, I want you to look at me.” He resisted, which pleased me immensely. My fingers dug into the skin on each side of his jaw as I forced him to meet my gaze. He was going to have some very interesting bruises in the morning. I focused on the pinpoints of black in the center of his eyes. “You’re going to look at Daniel and apologize nicely… _now.”_

“My apologies,” he whispered, as he glanced over my shoulder to where Daniel was standing.

“And you’re going to leave him alone,” I ordered softly, still holding his gaze.

“Yes, I’ll leave him alone,” he repeated back to me.

“When I release you, you’re going to go home and stay there where you belong. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he answered obediently. I broke contact with his eyes, relaxed my grip on his face, and then slowly dropped the dagger from his throat. He inched away from me cautiously, never taking his eyes off me as he scuttled away into the night.

When he was gone, I turned to Daniel. “Need a new dagger?” I laughed softly and tossed him the knife.

He was fast. He caught it by the handle and then in one smooth motion threw it with surprising force at the nearest tree. The blade embedded itself deeply into the trunk with a menacing thud. “No thanks,” he snarled and then stalked off toward home.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered sarcastically under my breath as I turned and followed him up the road.

As had become habit with us, we made our way home in silence, but this time, his was an angry silence. I could almost feel the fury radiating off him as I walked behind him. When we arrived at the cottage, he slung the front door open, nearly slamming me in the face with it. I followed him inside and shut the door. That was when he exploded. He yanked off his coat and threw it to the floor instead of hanging it neatly on the hook by the door.

He turned on me and yelled in fury. “What the fuck was that all about?!”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a frown.

“Don’t act all innocent with me! What the fuck do you think you were doing back there?!”

“I was trying to diffuse the situation,” I answered calmly.

“Well FUCK THAT!” he screamed. “I don’t need you to come to my fucking rescue!!”

My temper flared. _The ungrateful cur!_   “In case you didn’t notice, you were about to be gutted like a fish before I intervened!”

“I could have handled him!” His lips were curled over his teeth in fury.

“By the looks of your body, you haven’t had much success with that!” I spat. “Are you longing for a matching set of scars?”

“Mind your own damned business! Got that?” He poked his finger hard into my chest.

 _Arrogant idiot!_ I fought the desire to break every bone in his hand. Instead, I very calmly pushed his finger away from my body. “Fine. Next time I’ll just stand by and let him fillet you. Perhaps the cook at the tavern can mince you up and serve you in a pie.”

“Well let me tell you something, you arrogant prick.” We were standing eye-to-eye with each other now. He was glaring at me with barely contained rage. “I’ve managed perfectly fine without you for twenty-two years, and I certainly don’t need you coming here and acting like my god-damned mother. I fight my own battles,” he finished, his voice menacingly quiet.

I acquiesced with a nod and backed away from him. “I see. I never intended to offend you. I only wished to help. I’m sorry.” I turned away from him and moved over to the fireplace. I busied myself with adding a log to the fire and stoking it. I heard him pick up his coat from the floor. The sound of the door slamming, along with the sudden absence of his strong alluring scent, let me know that I was alone.

I sighed and settled down in the rocker to wait. Perhaps he was only going to the privy, or maybe on a walk to clear his head. I had no way of knowing what this unpredictable man would do next. His fury at my intervention on his behalf had surprised me. I’d never expected anger, let alone blatant ingratitude. Did he really think I would just stand by and do nothing while he was killed in cold blood? It was almost as if the man had a death wish.

He stayed gone for a little over an hour. Finally, I heard him fumbling with the latch on the door. I watched him enter and calmly shut the door behind him. He hung his coat on the peg as was his usual habit. He pulled his boots off and stood them neatly against the wall. He peeled his clothes off as he made his way across the room; they landed in a neat pile in the floor by the bed. Without looking in my direction, he softly announced he was retiring for the night. He crawled underneath the blankets and rolled over onto his side with his back facing me. The crackling of the logs in the fireplace was the only sound in the room as I waited for him to fall asleep.

When his breathing became regular and deep, I slipped quietly out the door. With the scent of Daniel’s attackers strong in my nostrils, I went out into the night in search of them. I followed their scents all over the small town, from the tavern, through the narrow streets, to assorted businesses which were now locked up tight against the night, through the woods to a large empty barn and finally to each of their respective homes. I peered into the cracks of their windows. I took note of others who occupied the house with them. I watched them sleep and listened to them breathe. Samuel slept fitfully like a man with tortured dreams. The other three men slept peacefully—clear consciences, or no consciences at all? It was too early to tell. I returned later to Daniel’s house with the satisfying knowledge that I could quickly locate all four men if the need arose.

He was still sleeping when I arrived. I settled back into the rocker by the fire and lost myself in thought. Daniel was so perplexing. Arrogant one minute, unsure of himself the next. Courageous, to be sure, but it wasn’t an intelligent sort of courage; it was reckless and stupid. But he seemed to have the luck of someone who didn’t care, much like me, I realized. I’d engaged in some very risky behavior myself since Asha’s death, which had also been very stupid considering I was constantly being watched by Aro’s tracker. I’d killed publicly and in great numbers. Many times I hadn’t even bothered to conceal my rampages, and still I walked the earth in relative comfort. I’d cheated my fate many times, as had Daniel, it seemed. His body was littered with scars as testament to that fact. Despite someone’s determined attempt to end his life, he was still here, and so was I. We were two of a kind, he and I.

My gaze swept around the small room, searching for some tiny bit of personal information about him. I found nothing. No images of family, no ornamental what-nots that usually dotted everyone shelves and tables. No evidence of a hobby. Nothing. I rose and quietly peeked into the shadowy doorway in the corner. It led to a small kitchen furnished with only a square wooden table and four straight-backed chairs and assorted cupboards. As with the main room, there was nothing ornamental about it, just another austere and functional room.

I sighed inwardly and returned to the rocker, sweeping the room once more for clues. That was when my gaze landed on the desk by the door. There was a drawer in the center of it, located just beneath the writing surface, a drawer that could contain all sorts of things: letters, journals, mementos or even bills of lading. I would welcome anything that would give me some insight into this man’s life. I glanced at his sleeping form and then made the decision to explore the desk. An inner voice was frantically telling me not to do it. If he found out he would most likely be livid and throw me out of his house and his life. But my curiosity—which I predicted would eventually be my downfall—got the better of me. Upon investigating the desk further, I discovered a flimsy lock protecting the contents of the drawer. With very little effort, I pulled sharply back on the drawer and heard the sharp satisfying sound of metal ripping away from wood. I slid the drawer open slowly and quietly, alert for any sound of Daniel waking. What I found inside it left me speechless.

I pulled out a thick stack of large pale squares and laid them on the top of the desk. Some of the squares were pieces of fabric and others were made of coarse paper with the fibers of the plants used to make them clearly visible. But it was what was on those squares that stunned me. They were drawings done in black charcoal. Of landscapes: forests and mountains, flowers and shrubs. Still lifes of fruit and ordinary household objects. Portraits of several faces unfamiliar to me, except for one: the waitress at the tavern. Barns. Small wild animals. Horses, cows and sheep. I thumbed through every one of them, stupefied at the intricacy of them, amazed at the talent of the man who had drawn them.

“Michael.”

I flinched at the sound of his voice behind me. _Damn my curiosity and my inattention._ He came around me and leaned back against the desk. He stared at me with those dark, unreadable eyes.

“If you want to know something about me, you don’t have to rifle through my personal belongings. You can just ask.” He spoke softly and without anger, but I sensed that he was deeply offended.

“My apologies. You’re right, of course,” I acknowledged with not a small bit of shame. I waited for him to say something but he continued staring at me with those frustratingly secretive eyes of his. My curiosity once again got the better of me. “Did you draw these?”

He shrugged. “A man has to do something to pass the time. Some men whittle. I like to draw.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “These are beautifully wrought. They’re stunning. You’re very talented.”

“I don’t do them for people to see. That’s why they’re locked in a drawer.” Yes, by the tone of his voice I could tell that he was definitely upset with me.

“Forgive me for prying.” I began to gather them back into a neat stack when his hand came to rest on mine. I pulled away and watched as he sifted through the squares until he came to the portraits. He selected two specifically and laid them side by side on top.

“My parents,” he stated simply. He ran a calloused finger tenderly across their images. “They were good people who died much too soon. They didn’t deserve the life they had to live.”

That was a very enigmatic statement and it aroused my curiosity even more. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head without comment and began to gather up his drawings. When they were all stacked neatly together as before, he placed them back in the drawer and shut it. “I suppose there’s no need in replacing the lock you broke,” he said bitterly.

 _Damn my cursed curiosity_. “I seem to have offended you this evening at every turn. Perhaps I should just leave,” I suggested quietly.

He folded his arms across his bare chest and considered me for a long time. Finally he sighed softly and said, “I don’t want you to leave. And furthermore, I want to apologize for my behavior tonight. You see…” He hesitated. His eyes slid away from me and then returned. He met my gaze squarely and what he said next told me more about him than any amount of snooping ever could have. “No one has ever stood up for me before. _Ever._ I’m just not used to that sort of thing. I don’t quite know how to handle it. But, regardless, it was wrong of me to be ungrateful. So, I thank you for stepping in and saving my life.”

“You’re very welcome,” I acknowledged. “And, just so you know, I’ll do it again if the need arises, without hesitation.” He nodded and smiled, dropping his eyes to the floor. I sensed that there was more he wanted to say, but the hesitant Daniel who was so puzzling to me had suddenly returned. “Is there something else?” I prodded.

He dropped his arms to his side and sighed. He looked uncomfortable and seemed reluctant to speak. Then he took a deep breath and stood up straight. He kept his eyes chest level as he grazed his fingers lightly along the top of my hand. Chill bumps rose all over my body at his hesitant touch.

“I know you prefer women, but would you mind so much coming to bed with me tonight?” he asked.

“No.” I smiled when his eyes finally met mine. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

 

*************************************

 

Daniel was sprawled on his back and snoring softly. When chill bumps had started rising on his skin and he’d unconsciously drawn the blankets up around him in his sleep, I’d slid out from underneath the covers and away from him. I was now sitting on the bed crosswise to his body, with my back up against the wooden wall, watching him sleep.

The man never ceased to surprise me. Unlike with the previous night when the sex had been a rough and urgent meeting of two unfamiliar bodies, tonight it had been tender and hesitant, with him uncharacteristically passive. Every touch of his fingers had been soft as silk on my skin, every kiss had been gentle, even the probing deep ones. Everything he’d done he’d done only after asking softly for my permission.

My growing feelings for this man were so confounding. I was not a lover of men, of that one fact I was emphatically sure. Up until meeting him the thought of being with a man in that way had never occurred to me. It wasn’t that I’d found it distasteful, it simply hadn’t entered my mind. Women, especially _human_ women, had always completely satisfied me.

But, I had to admit to myself in the quiet dimness of the emerging morning, that it had been a long time since anyone had touched me with such tenderness. No one since Asha had made me feel so cared for and cherished. It seemed rather odd to me that a man could accomplish what thousands of human women had been unable to do, and that was to make me feel loved. I didn’t know what to make of it, or of _him._

The only thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to leave. For the first time in a very long time, I was going to stay in one place for more than a few days. He already knew I was a vampire, because I’d stupidly revealed myself to him and then failed to kill him. Because of that one mistake, I was already in trouble with the Volturi, that is, if they found out. I knew what I was doing was dangerous for him _and_  me. Asha’s death was proof of that. But I selfishly didn’t care. How had I gotten so deeply involved with him so fast? I didn’t know, but moving on and leaving him behind was unthinkable.

Daniel Tobias Hart was a part of my life now, regardless of the consequences.


	3. The Drawing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will find a couple of unfamiliar terms in this chapter. Here are their definitions:
> 
> Virgate: a medieval English unit that measures the amount of land a pair of oxen can plough in a single year. (Approximately 30 acres). No explanation was necessary within the story since Michael would have already been familiar with this unit of measure.
> 
> Swive: Archaic word meaning to have sexual intercourse with (from the Old English and Scottish usage—pronunciation: rhymes with “hive”. Also swiving: the act of engaging in sexual intercourse)

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

“This is getting to be a little strange.” Daniel had just awakened and was propped up on one elbow gazing in my direction.

“What is?” I asked.

“Me waking up every morning to find you fully dressed and staring at me from that rocker. Don’t you ever sleep?” he asked with an annoyed frown as he threw the covers off and started to get up.

 _Someone woke up out of sorts this morning._ “No, I don’t.”

He stopped dead. “You don’t?” he asked, astonished.

I laughed softly. “No, not at all. I have no need for sleep, as my body never gets tired.”

He stared at me as he considered this new bit of information. Then, “You’re strong, incredibly fast—I mean, I didn’t even see you move when you grabbed Samuel’s hand—and you don’t eat regular food. And now I find out that you never sleep. What else don’t I know about you?”

 _That I’m a monster who has murdered thousands of innocent humans, and that I liked it._ But I didn’t say that. “I have excellent eyesight. I can see great distances, and in the dark. I can hear conversations from far away or I can focus in on your heartbeat and the blood rushing through your body, both of which are very luscious sounds, by the way.”

“You can hear that?” he asked in shock.

“Yes.” I chuckled. “It’s very…stimulating.”

He looked at me and frowned again. “And there’s something strange about your breathing.”

“I don’t need to breathe either.” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s connected to my sense of smell. So when I don’t want to smell something, I stop breathing.” I hesitated before adding, “I do that rather often with you.”

He got up then and started to dress. “So, you’re saying I stink,” he quipped, with an amused grin.

“Not at all. You smell very nice. That’s the problem.”

He looked at me strangely as he threw on his coat. “I don’t think I want to know that means. I’m going to the privy.” He stopped at the door and then turned back to me. “It just occurred to me that you can probably hear me piss.”

I laughed. “Yes I can, but I have the ability to tune things out. And believe me when I say that I have no deep abiding interest in your bodily functions.”

“Maybe not those.” He grinned crookedly, winked and then disappeared out the door, leaving the rest of his sentence hanging in the air suggestively.

It was good to see the return of the cocky Daniel I was used to. That Daniel I found amusing and could understand. The other side of him that I’d seen last night, the hesitant and passive Daniel, always left me wondering. The man was nothing but contradictions, which I supposed was what made him so interesting to me.

He came back into the house, shivering from the cold, and walked directly to the fireplace. He squatted down and threw a log on the fire, poking it as he spoke. “It looks like it’s going to be a fine day. It’s cloudy, but I don’t think it’s going to rain or snow. I need to put in a few days of work if I’m going to survive the winter.”

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“How are you with an ax?” he asked as he stood and leaned the poker up against the fireplace.

“Better than you,” I answered smugly.

He grinned down at me. “We’ll see about that.”

****************************************

  
After he’d eaten breakfast we started out walking toward the woods, stopping at a small shed along the way to get two axes. He informed me that we were going to spend the day chopping felled trees into logs, a skill at which I was very adept. He stored most of the logs for his own use during the snowy winters, but also sold cords of them to the locals.  I also learned, as we walked deeper into the woods, that his parents had left him a full virgate of land to care for, which seemed like an overwhelming job for one man alone. It had taken my father and me both working from sunrise to sunset to keep our small farm going and it hadn’t been nearly as large as Daniel’s.

“Do you have help?” 

He laughed bitterly, and without looking at me he said, “No, no help. There isn’t a man within two days ride of here who would work side-by-side with me. Not even for pay, of which I have none to give.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “For a small share of the crops and some bales of hay surely you should be able to find someone.”

He stopped walking and turned to face me. “You don’t get it, do you?” I was surprised to hear anger in his voice. “I’m a pariah in this town. The people here tolerate my presence, but that is all. They avoid me, especially the men. I’m not included in their town socials, I have no friends to speak of, and I’m sure I’m not mentioned in anyone’s prayers at night. Oh, they buy wood from me, and allow me to do hard labor for them in exchange for food or some small bit of money, but to actually associate with me?” He shook his head, made a soft disgusted noise and walked off, without bothering to wait on me.

As I trailed behind him, I wondered why I hadn’t figured it out sooner. Daniel was an outcast, someone who didn’t fit in among his own kind. I could sympathize completely with his circumstances, and the utter loneliness that came along with it.  We walked the rest of the way in silence, until we happened upon a stand of trees that had several fallen ones among them. I hung back and observed as Daniel spotted an enormous trunk that met some unknown criteria in his mind. He tugged at it to dislodge it from the ground. The muscles in his back strained as he tried to slide it away from the group and out into an open area where we could cut it.

“You just going to stand there like a shrub?” he asked with some annoyance. “I could use some help.”

I smiled inwardly and walked to his side. “Where do you want it?”

He nodded his head in the general direction of a small open break in the trees. I picked it up with one hand and threw it over to the small clearing. When it landed, it fell into two distinct halves.

He looked at the tree and then back at me. “Cocky vampire bastard,” he muttered under his breath as he picked up his ax and walked away.

I chuckled at his annoyance. “I can pretend that it’s heavy next time. It’s not my intention to make you feel inferior.”

He glared at me, but I could see a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sure it isn’t. You look like a swelled up toad, you’re so proud of yourself.” Then he shook his head and laughed softly. “Just shut up and get busy with that ax.”

I smiled and then got to work. We toiled steadily for several hours clearing the fallen trees in our immediate area. Of course, my stack of wood was much larger than his, even though he worked like an oxen to keep up. He’d shed his shirt a long time ago. Sweat ran down his body, despite the coolness of the day. My eyes were continually drawn to him as he swung the axe over his head and down. The veins in his arms were swelled fat with blood. The male scent of him, along with his usual mouthwatering smell, made concentration on my part rather difficult. But even with all of the distractions, I worked circles around him, which, to my amusement, annoyed him greatly.

He stopped, dropped his axe to the ground, and looked at me, clearly agitated. “Where the hell did you learn to chop wood like that? Let’s take a break.” He picked up his shirt and wiped at his face and body. He’d brought along some sort of drink, which he upended into his mouth, spilling some it down his bare chest in the process. I wondered briefly what it would taste like on his skin. I shook off the images starting to form in my mind and sat down on a nearby log. Daniel collapsed on the ground near me and leaned his back up against his wood pile.

“To answer your question, I grew up on a farm. Actually, it’s not far from here. Four days ride on horseback.”

“Really? What’s the name of it?” he asked.

I shook my head sadly. “You wouldn’t know of it. There’s nothing there anymore. Hasn’t been for several hundred years. That’s how I ended up passing through here. I decided on a whim to journey back to the place where I grew up. I wanted to walk on the land and smell the familiar smells of my childhood.”

What I’d really been trying to do was find some connection to the human being I was before I’d met Asha. Somewhere along the line I’d lost that carefree and optimistic young man. I’d been a fool to think I’d find him again in the deserted forests and grown-up fields of my youth. It had been a frustratingly sad waste of time.  “There was nothing left. I tried to find the foundation stone of my home, but it was gone. I walked everywhere looking for the gravestones of my parents and my siblings, but I couldn’t find them. I could just barely make out the indentations where the road to the village had been. I walked all over the area, looking for anything familiar. It was all gone.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. I’d found the small clearing where I’d first met Asha. It was mostly overgrown, but it was impossible not to recognize the large boulder by the stream where we’d sat and talked for hours. The memories of that time rushed in and brought with it the same feelings of joy as when I’d first laid eyes upon her. I sat on that boulder for several days and nights remembering it all. Of course, after a time, the sadness chased away the joy like a dark thundercloud stealing away the sun, and that was when I’d left. I’d turned my back on my home for the second time, except this time it was truly for forever. I was never going to return.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel offered softly.

“Don’t be sorry for me. I chose this life. It wasn’t thrust upon me against my will. Losing everyone you’ve known is part of the deal. After awhile, all of your family and friends die, and you don’t. It’s just that simple.”

“So you have no one either,” he said quietly.

Only Rhodes, but with the way things were now, I couldn’t include her as part of my life anymore. She thoroughly disliked the man I was now and studiously avoided me. “No,” I answered simply.

There wasn’t anything else for either one of us to say, so we took the rest of our break in silence, with only the sounds of nature intruding into our thoughts.  Suddenly the clouds moved on and the sun broke through the stand of trees, bathing the small clearing in light. It was a weak autumn sun, but to me it felt like the heat from a blazing fire. I sighed in contentment as its beams hit my face, neck and arms. Without thinking, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the ground beside me.  

A sharp gasp from Daniel’s direction drew my attention. His face was a mask of astonishment, awe and wonder as his eyes moved over my body. He got up and walked slowly toward me. When he was standing directly in my line of sight, he asked me to stand. I obeyed and stilled my body for his inspection. He hesitantly touched a hand to my chest. When he discovered that my skin felt no different than it had last night, he became bolder. He ran both of his calloused hands tenderly down my arms to my wrists, and then back up to my shoulders. They traveled down my chest, along my stomach and to the waistline of my breeches. He picked up my hand and held it in his, rubbing it softly with his thumb, as if he were trying to wipe a smudge of dirt off of it.

“I saw a rock once that glittered in the light like a diamond. Someone said it was the quartz in it that made it glisten,” he said. “Your skin, for want of a better word, is beautiful.”

“It comes with being a vampire. Our skin hardens and becomes crystallized when we’re changed.”

He shook his head in wonder. I expected to be barraged with questions, but instead a wicked smile slowly appeared. “Does everything look like this?” Curiosity danced in his dark eyes, as well as a mischievousness that was becoming quite familiar to me.

I chuckled softly. "Yes, it does."

“I want to see,” he breathed.

I laughed and shook my head at him as I worked at the fastening of my breeches. “I used to think you unpredictable. I’m now finding the opposite to be true.”

He watched me silently as I finally loosed the fastening of my breeches and dropped them past my hips and to the ground. My undergarment immediately followed. I stepped out of the pool of my clothes and kicked them aside. A strange soft growl issued out of his throat as his gaze fell below my waist. It wasn’t a sound I’d heard from him before, and it was surprisingly arousing. I stood perfectly still as he lightly grazed his fingers over every inch of my genitals. Chill bumps raced down my back even with the heat of the sun bearing down on me. I felt the pleasant tug of an erection beginning as his fingers brushed my skin.

Then he walked behind me and repeated everything he’d done in the front. He ran his fingers over my shoulders, down my arms to my wrists and back up, then across the span of my back and down to my waist. He moved his palms over my buttocks and down into the hidden space between my thighs. I shifted my weight just a little to allow his fingers more room. It was as if he was memorizing the contours of my body with just his hands, so thorough was his exploration. He leaned the whole length of his body against my back. I felt his hardness pressing against me as he lightly kissed my shoulder. I involuntarily shivered as he walked back around to face me. He was standing extremely close; mere inches separated us as he moved his eyes over my face.

“You know what I want to do right this very minute?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I think I can hazard a guess,” I answered with a soft chuckle.

He laughed quietly with me, bathing my face with his sweet breath. “I always want to do _that_ , especially with you, but it’s not swiving I want right now. I want to draw you. Would you sit for me?”

Once again he’d surprised me. I’d fully expected to find myself face-down in the grass at any moment with his full weight on top of me, but the man wanted to draw me. Would I ever completely understand him? “Of course I’ll sit for you."

He backed away from me. “I’m going back to the house to get my things. Wait for me.”

“What about the wood?” I asked as he made to leave.

“To hell with it,” he said with a small smile. “I have better things to do.”

He strode away from me and disappeared into the woods leading back to the cottage. I stood in the sun awhile longer, and then decided that I felt not a little ridiculous. I withdrew to the edges of the clearing and sat down on a log to wait on him, all the while wondering how I’d managed to find myself in such a strange situation as this.  
  


**********************************

  
“What do you want me to do?” I was standing in the middle of the small opening in the trees with the sun beaming down on me. Daniel had pulled over a large stump and was now sitting a few feet away from me in the shadow of the trees.

“Just stand there like you are now,” he answered as he laid his paper out on what looked like a smoothed piece of wood lying in his lap. A small box of what I assumed to be his charcoal, sat beside him in the grass. He extended his legs, crossed them at the ankles and then started.

But before he made even one mark on the paper, he studied me intently for several minutes. Not even a small segment of my body was left untouched by his gaze. I watched his eyes move slowly over me from my head to my feet, and everywhere in-between. It was a strange and unnerving feeling. Finally he began to draw on his paper. I watched curiously as he made several long strokes, which I could only assume represented the lengths of my legs and arms.

“Stop looking. You’ll see it when it’s finished." He pulled his legs in close to the log, effectively blocking my view of the paper.

I sighed and satisfied myself with watching him. After he’d evidently drawn a rough sketch of my body, he began to concentrate on specific parts. His dark eyes lingered over my face as his hand moved on the paper. His eyes swept over mine, but they never connected. They were too busy analyzing the angles and shadows that the light made on my face. They stayed a very long time on my mouth, which to my dismay, stirred my body in embarrassing ways.

Eventually, he moved on to my shoulders, chest, stomach and arms. As before, his gaze lingered over every area. It was the strangest thing I’d ever experienced. His penetrating stare fixed on every inch of my body in order to transfer what he was seeing to paper, but the weight of his gaze, in some ways, felt impersonal and detached. Yet, in other ways it felt very, very intimate. While my mind was trying to figure out the strangeness of it, my cock had already arrived at a full understanding.

“Are you all right?” he asked without meeting my eyes or breaking the rhythm of his hand on the paper.

“No, I’m not,” I retorted hotly, frowning. “I’m feeling a little uncomfortable, if you must know.”

He nodded. “I can understand that, but it’s so rare to have someone actually sit for me. You have no idea how special this is.”

Then of course, I immediately felt guilty over my pettiness. There was no one around but us. It was ridiculous for me to feel embarrassed, when I’d done many more intimate things with this man than allowing him to see me nude.

“I’m sure it’s not often that you find yourself posing completely naked for a man in broad daylight,” he continued. “I can see where that might make you a little uncomfortable.” Then his eyes rose from his paper; his hand stopped moving. He met my gaze squarely and then grinned crookedly. “But that doesn’t explain the beautiful cock-stand you have, my friend.”

I snarled at him, which only served to make him laugh uproariously. When he finally stopped laughing, he asked, “You like my eyes on you, don’t you?”

“It’s not an altogether unpleasant experience,” I answered reluctantly.

“Why don’t you just say you like it, Michael,” he said his voice low and husky again. He stared at me, his good humor gone as swiftly as it had appeared. He was waiting for me to say words that I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak. But nonetheless, they were true.

“I like it,” I said softly.

He smiled and returned to his work. The next several minutes seemed like hours as he focused his piercing gaze on my groin. It didn’t escape my attention that he had to stop and make an adjustment to his breeches. I snickered softly at that.

“I like it, as well," he commented, grinning mischievously. “And I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

After that, nothing else was said between us. Thankfully he moved on to my legs and then eventually proclaimed us through for the day. I dressed as he silently gathered up his shirt, charcoals and the drawing. I carried the axes and followed along behind him. He paused as I replaced the tools back into the shed, and then we continued on to the cottage. We hadn’t spoken a word since we’d left the clearing, but the air was electrically charged between us, much like the moments just before a lightning strike. I knew that feeling for what it was: a simmering lust that crawled along my skin like the tiny feet of millions of insects. My whole body was tingling with it.

I followed him through the door and stood aside as he closed and latched it. He sat his charcoal and the drawing on the desk, tossed his shirt over by the bed, and drew off his boots. I kept my eyes on his back as I took mine off as well. Then we both stood in place, him with his back to me, and me staring at the expanse of his wide shoulders.

Finally, I could wait no longer. I softly spoke his name. He turned and then found himself pushed hard up against the wall with my thigh wedged between his legs. Before he could speak, my mouth was on his, hot, hard and unforgiving. My fingers were working their way through his short dark hair. I ground my entire body hard against his muscular frame.

“Jesus, Michael,” he gasped breathlessly, when I finally released his mouth and moved on to his neck. His heart was pounding underneath me. A litany of soft curses mixed with deep moans poured out of him, which only served to stoke the fire raging in me.

I tasted his skin, sweat mixed with his normal body oils. That and the scent of his blood pushed me over the edge. He groaned as my hands began to move roughly over his body. Too roughly, apparently.

“Michael! That hurts!” He struggled and tried to get out from underneath me, but I was too far gone for sensitivity. He pushed at me with his powerful arms, but the effort was useless. I pinned them to the wall and continued my relentless attack upon his body. “Get off me!!” he raged between gritted teeth. The sound of fear and the hot smell of panic pouring off of him broke through my haze.

I abruptly released him, and backed away, horrified at my lapse in control. When I reached the bed, I sat down and dropped my head into my hands. “I’m sorry,” I murmured at the floor.

“It’s fine,” he said, his breathing still heavy from the exertion of trying to push me away. “You just got a little carried away." He laughed softly, but nervously. "I’m tough, I can handle it.”

“No,” I said bitterly, shaking my head. “I need to leave.”

“No, you don’t!” He strode across the room and squatted at my feet. “Look at me.” When I did, he continued softly. “Please don’t leave. It’s fine, really. You didn’t hurt me.”

“You don’t understand.” I shook my head in frustration. “You’re confusing the hell out of me.”

“How am I confusing you? Tell me and I’ll stop," he implored.

“Daniel, I have had sex with more women than I can count. I _love_ women, do you understand? I am _not_ a lover of men,” I insisted strongly. “I shouldn’t be here doing this. It’s not fair to you.”

“I know you like women better, and I agree with you. You’re not a lover of men. What you are is a lover of only _one_ man…me.” I shot him a sharp, confounded look. He ignored me and continued, “There’s something between us that’s pulling us together and holding us fast.” He touched his fingers to the center of my chest, near where my lifeless heart lay. “You feel something for me, and I for you, some connection of some sort. Our bodies are just following what our hearts already know. It’s just a coincidence that we’re both men. Why should that be wrong? You are the first man who has ever shown me true compassion and kindness,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“It’s so much more complicated than that,” I said sadly. “You have no idea how much danger you are in by my very presence.”

“I don’t feel threatened. What just happened was nothing, Michael. _Nothing_ ,” he insisted.

I looked away from him. He had no inkling of the seriousness of his situation. Not only was he at risk from me and my appetites, but also from the Volturi and their insidious rules.

“Let’s just start over with the moment we came in the front door. Can we do that?” he asked softly.

I hesitated for a long while before answering him. Deep in my heart, I knew I should walk away from him and never look back, but I didn’t want to. The thought of not seeing him tomorrow, or the day after, was unthinkable. Starting over from the front door seemed like a workable idea. I was much calmer now. The intense feelings of attraction and lust from the clearing were gone. I stared back at him and nodded.

He exhaled a deep breath and then smiled tentatively. “I think perhaps a bath might be in order after all the sweating I’ve done today.” He made to rise, but I stopped him with a hand on his knee.

“Please don’t,” I whispered. “I like the taste of you just the way you are.”

His eyes widened and then he grinned crookedly. “Well, what is the world coming to? That makes two things you admit to liking about me now. Let’s see if we can discover any more.” He chuckled seductively and gently pushed me back onto the bed.

 

*******************************

  
“Holy Mary, mother of fucking God,” Daniel groaned breathlessly. He was lying sprawled on his back, his chest heaving with exertion, his heart thundering in his chest. I was stretched out beside him, my body vampire still, enjoying the sensations that continued to pulse across my nerve endings. “What the bloody hell was _that??_ ” He continued on with a breathless string of expletives, many of which I felt sure were blasphemous against the Holy Church. After a few moments, I tuned him out and drifted away for awhile to a quiet place deep inside of my mind.

“Michael!” Hands vigorously shaking my body jerked me out of my pleasant reverie. I opened my eyes to find Daniel looming over me looking frightened. “Thank God,” he said, breathlessly. “You were so still. I thought you were dead.”

I frowned up at him. “I _am_ dead, you idiot. And I was relaxing until you bothered me!”

“Oh,” he said with chagrin. “Sorry.” He flopped back over onto his back and stretched his body luxuriously like a cat after a long nap. He turned his head and smiled over at me. “God, but there is nothing better than good sex.” He sighed. “And lamb pie.”

“Oh, yes there is,” I said quietly.

He snorted derisively. "Name one."

“Blood. It’s better than anything. I need to hunt again.”

He frowned. “You just went yesterday.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I will if I don’t hunt.” He had no way of knowing that my appetites went far beyond just the need for blood, and he would never know, if I could help it. I rose from his side, scooted off the bottom of the bed and searched the floor for my clothes. “I’ll be back sometime before morning.”

He sighed. "Fine. I think I might head down to the tavern later. I have a yearning for lamb pie.”

I glanced at him as I pulled on my breeches and worked at the fastenings. “Perhaps you should avoid the tavern.”

He glowered at me from the bed. “Thank you for that advice, mother.”

I sighed in frustration at his complete and utter stubbornness. “If you must go, then arm yourself, at least.”

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll have so many knives on me I’ll look like my mum’s pin cushion. I’ll be fine.”

I retrieved my boots from the door and sat down at the foot of the bed to put them on.

“I wanted to thank you, by the way.”

“For?” I asked, confused.

He grinned crookedly and then snickered. “For saving me from having to take a bath.”

I growled at him, my warning for him to just shut his mouth and say no more. Instead, he laughed at my discomfort and then continued, like I’d known he would. “That licking thing. That was really interesting. No one’s ever licked me from head to toe before. I think I liked it,” he finished, grinning widely.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes. To my embarrassment, I’d gotten a little carried away with tasting his skin. I’d never done anything like that with anyone before. But, Daniel had a way of breaking down all of my barriers and stripping away my control. It annoyed the hell out of me. I left him still grinning, and retrieved my coat from the peg by the door.

“You’re coming back, right?” The abrupt change in his tone startled me: from cocky and arrogant to hesitant and insecure in an instant.

“Yes. I’m coming back. Sometime before morning,” I reassured him.

“I’ll be here waiting for you."

I was hesitant to leave him alone tonight. He wasn’t safe in this town. The scars on his body, along with Samuel’s attack on him last night, proved that. But he wasn’t safe with me either, unless I hunted, and hunted regularly. I had no choice but to leave him unprotected, at least for a few hours.  “You need to be alert and cautious. Will you do that for me?”

He nodded. “I will.”

I took one last look at him, nodded my head in silent goodbye, and then went out the door and into the night.


	4. The Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plants mentioned in this chapter were used by the common folk in the 17th century for homeopathic healing purposes. “Medical” doctors of the time frowned upon the practice of using plants to heal, relying instead upon proven battlefield techniques, and the misguided notion that an imbalance in the body’s “four humours” was the primary cause of all diseases and conditions.
> 
> Also the term “finger” as it's used in this chapter refers to an old English unit of measure equal to 7/8 inch

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

The teeming streets of Love Lane, London’s notorious red light district, should have excited me, but instead I found myself unable to concentrate on the pleasures of hunting. Daniel was constantly in my thoughts. Feelings of uneasiness plagued my every step and made me hesitant to linger and enjoy the delights displayed blatantly in every doorway. Each minute I wasted here was another minute that Daniel was left unprotected. Hence, the first woman who crossed my path very quickly, and very brutally, met her death. I drank from her until I was sated, and then silently cursed the precious minutes I had to waste in hiding her body. Finally, with the deed done, and the majority of my appetite satisfied, I raced back to Daniel.

When I arrived at the cottage, I was relieved to find it alight with the soft glow of candles. A feeling of calm, even a sense of peace, settled upon my heart at being back. I realized then, with some small amount of surprise, that the tiny thatched house was beginning to feel like home to me. Equally surprising was the comfort I felt in knowing that someone who cared about me was inside awaiting my return. I hadn’t had such feelings in a very long time. That sense of peace, however, evaporated into the cold night air as I approached the front door. It was open, just a little. Two hours away from midnight, and Daniel’s front door was ajar. And not only that, he wasn’t inside. His vibrant heartbeat was absent, his strong scent merely a faint lingering odor.

I pushed the door open, stepped inside and quickly swept my gaze over the main room. The bed was still rumpled from our earlier time together. His boots and coat were gone. The fire was now only a small mound of faintly glowing embers, and there was no wood in the bin by the fireplace.

I stepped back out into the darkness and worked my way around the house. It wasn’t long before I picked up some very familiar scents: Daniel’s attackers from the previous night. Their scents, along with Daniel’s, hung heavy in the air around the lean-to where he stored the firewood. Either Daniel had gone to the tavern and had been followed home, or he’d never made it in the first place. I suspected the latter to be true. He would have never gone out to eat without first banking the fire. The fact that it was nothing but a pile of embers and the inside log bin was empty led me to the conclusion that he’d been overwhelmed while gathering wood.

I took off and ran swiftly through the woods, following their scents until they led me to the deserted barn I’d discovered during my previous night’s explorations. I attuned my senses to the dark, looming structure and approached the massive doorway slowly and cautiously, but not because I was afraid of what may await me inside. I already knew there was but one inert human occupying that black, empty space. It was Daniel, no question. I was hesitating because my senses were being bombarded with the overpowering scent of his blood.

I hung back several feet from the entrance and quickly considered my options. I wasn’t thirsty, but fresh blood was tempting to even the fullest vampire, especially blood that smelled as sweet as Daniel’s. Keeping control around him had been fairly easy as long as there had been no blood involved, but this situation terrified me. Not since my time with Asha and Rhodes had I even made the slightest effort to control my impulses. I had very little faith at that moment in my ability to help him without killing him myself.

Should I go to the tavern for help? Or pound on the door of the nearest cottage and ask for a doctor? Or maybe I should just stop being so damned indecisive and go in there and help the one human being who’d shown me the only kindness I’d known in over five hundred years! I snarled softly under my breath, loathing myself for my weakness while Daniel lay bleeding, and quite possible dying, inside that barn.

I shut my eyes to the outside world and turned my focus inward. I reached far down inside of my mind, searching for that part of myself that I’d lost when Asha had died: my control. If I was going to help Daniel I needed to find it, and quickly. A low, painful moan from inside the barn brought an immediate halt to my indecision. I had no choice now but to stop breathing and then step inside to face whatever horror awaited me.  It was as bad as I’d imagined. Daniel was laying face-down in the middle of the dirt floor and moaning softly. Blood had seeped out from an unseen wound and was pooling outward from his left shoulder. I slowly approached him, fighting my demon every step of the way. Even without breathing, the luscious scent of his blood hung heavy in the air and seemed to seep into my skin.

“Daniel,” I called to him, even though the effort brought a rush of mouthwatering scent into my lungs and sent a scorching burn down my throat. There was no response. I called his name several more times as I slowly approached his side, but he never responded. Only his heartbeat and an occasional moan let me know that he still lived.

I squatted by his side and reached a trembling hand to his shoulder. The arm of his coat was slick and saturated with blood. Then with both hands, I turned him over onto his back as gently as I could. His painful groans mixed with my own as I fought desperately against the pull of his blood, while at the same time trying to discover the extent of his injuries. I pushed back his coat away from his body. The blood was apparently coming from an injury to his chest. I ripped open his shirt and discovered what looked like a knife wound near his left armpit, a deep puncture that revealed the muscle inside. The skin below it was ripped ragged several fingers from the wound, like the knife had been yanked downward while still in him.

I growled low with a primitive hunger at the sight of the dark red blood that was still seeping slowly from his body. I forced my attention away from that luscious sight by sheer force of will, and then began searching his body for any other injuries. His face was nearly unrecognizable. It was already swelling from multiple bruises and was covered with cuts still oozing blood. I quickly scanned the rest of his body and could discern no other obvious injuries. But the knife wound was serious. I knew enough about blood loss to know that Daniel needed medical attention very soon if he was going to live.

“I’m taking you home and then going to find some help." I had no idea if he could hear me or understand my words, but if he could, I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone.

He yelped in pain when I gathered him up in my arms and then his body immediately went limp and quiet. I ran with him through the dense woods, purposely avoiding the rutted road. I kicked open his front door with my foot, sending it slamming back against the wall with a crash. I gently deposited him onto the rumpled bed and stretched his body out prone. I called his name constantly as I tore his bloody coat to pieces and removed it.

“Daniel. Daniel!” I shook his good shoulder gently to try and rouse him from his stupor. “You need a doctor. Where does he live? Daniel!”

After several more minutes of this, his eyes finally fluttered open. They were out of focus and filled with pain as they searched for something familiar. I took his face carefully in both of my hands and forced him to look at me. “Where can I find a doctor?” I asked slowly, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

He murmured a name. “Molly.”

“Molly?? Who is Molly?”

“Tavern,” he slurred, his voice barely a whisper.

I’d only seen two women at the tavern, the whore and our waitress. I felt it safe to assume that Molly was the waitress, although I was confused as to why he was asking for her. “You need a doctor!” I said urgently.

He shook his head from side-to-side very slightly. “Molly,” he gasped.

I was wasting precious time arguing with him, so I took a great leap of faith and decided to do as Daniel asked. “I’m going to go get her. Just hold on,” I assured him, while silently praying he’d still be alive when I returned.

* * *

  
There were only five people, of the thirty or so currently occupying the tavern, who interested me. Four of them, including Samuel, were huddled around a corner table. Their raucous laughter stopped as soon as I walked through the door. They eyed me suspiciously as I made my way across the room to where the fifth one, the waitress, was currently talking to a customer. I sorely regretted that I lacked the time to rip their bodies to pieces. Instead I was forced to settle for merely shooting them a murderous glare along the way.

I approached the waitress as she left the customer’s table. “Molly?” She turned and gave me quick curious glance. “Daniel is injured and asking for you."

Her green eyes widened in alarm and then darted to the corner of the room where Samuel and his companions were now laughing again. “How badly?” she asked, bringing her piercing gaze back to mine. “Tell me exactly.”

“A deep knife wound to the upper chest near his armpit, and it’s ripped downward several fingers. His face is cut and bruised. I think that is all.”

“Has the bleeding stopped?” she asked, as she hurriedly took off her apron and draped it over a vacant chair.

“It’s still seeping.”

“I have to go home and get my basket, and then I’ll come. In the meantime, I need you to do some things.” I listened carefully as she gave me a list of preparations. “Get his clothes off of him. Prop his head up with pillows. Put some water on to boil, a lot of water. Keep him warm with blankets and a fire. If he’s still bleeding, find a clean linen shirt, ball it up, and apply pressure to the wound until I get there. I’ll hurry.”

“Thank you, Molly,” I said as she prepared to leave.

She stopped, turned and then asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Michael.”

“Well, you’re very welcome, Michael. And don’t worry. They are _not_ going to kill our Daniel. I’ll make sure of that,” she said, with a fiery determination in her eyes and in her voice.  
  


* * *

  
By the time Molly’s soft knock sounded at the door, I’d completed all the preparations as she’d instructed. Daniel was propped up on pillows and covered in blankets. A large kettle of water was heating over the now roaring fire, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed with a wad of linen pressed against his chest. Daniel was coherent, but in too much pain to talk with me, particularly in regards as to what exactly had happened after I’d left him tonight.

“Come in!”

Molly rushed through the door, swung it forcefully shut behind her, and took her place on the bed beside Daniel. I was unceremoniously brushed aside and forced to pull the desk chair over to a spot at the head of the bed and watch from there.

“Oh my dear sweet Heavenly Father,” she whispered at the sight of the deep, jagged wound. Then she turned her attention to me. “You’re going to have to hold him down for me,” she ordered in a very no-nonsense voice. “I need to clean that wound.”

A bottle of amber liquid appeared from deep inside the basket. I leaned over Daniel’s head and held his arms down while she poured the substance liberally into the gaping hole in his chest. He bucked up off the bed with a hoarse scream and fought against the pressure of my hands, as the strong stench of what I now recognized as alcohol filled the room.

“Now, now, that’s the worst of it, Daniel,” she said sympathetically when she’d cleaned it to her satisfaction. “Now we’re going to stitch this up, and sorry to say, I don’t have any opium, but we’ve been through this before, haven’t we? You can soldier through this if ye set your mind to it.” Daniel whimpered and then nodded his head weakly. He set his mouth into a thin rigid line in preparation for what was to come.

What followed was some of the most swift and efficient doctoring I’d ever seen. Daniel clutched a wad of the blankets in one fist, and squeezed my fingers with his other as Molly worked quickly to stitch the wound shut with sheep gut. She very quietly narrated for me every detail of what she was doing as she rhythmically pulled the thread in and out of his ruined skin. Just before the task was finished, she instructed me to get a number of bowls from the kitchen and fill all of them except for one with the heated water from the fire. The empty one was to be used to prepare a poultice for the newly-closed wound. I watched her closely as she prepared a mixture of egg yolk, oil of roses and turpentine into a thick paste. When I questioned her about its use, she informed me it was to help heal the wound and prevent the fevers.

“Are you a doctor?” I asked, as she applied the noxious-smelling paste all along the fresh stitches.

“Ach, no!” she exclaimed with a horrified expression. “I learned the healing arts from my grandmother. And thank the Good Lord you listened to Daniel and sent for _me_ instead of that so-called doctor we have. He’s our barber, doctor and dentist, just fine if ye want a tooth pulled or a splinter taken out of ye hand. But otherwise, ye might as well plan your funeral after ye send for him. Why, first thing he would have done was pour boiling oil on that wound, and Daniel would have had ten leeches hanging off of him by now.” She shook her head and frowned as she continued. “My grandmother taught me that blood was meant to stay _in_ your body, and it was foolish nonsense to give even one drop of it to a slimy leech.” I was relieved to see a small smile trying to push its way through the pain and onto Daniel’s face. Obviously he’d heard this speech before, and it amused him. I was quite impressed with her knowledge and confident manner and very thankful that I’d listened to Daniel.

She pulled some strips of linen cloth from her basket. She took one and saturated it with the putrid egg yolk mixture, stretching it out over the length of the wound. The rest of the cloths were used to cover and hold it in place. Then she began adding bits of crushed plants to the various bowls of hot water. One mixture, which she informed me was marigold tea, was used to clean the cuts on his face. He winced only slightly as she swabbed the dried blood and dirt away.

The second mixture was a combination of chamomile and valerian. “Drink this,” she ordered, as she held the chamomile to his lips. “It’s to help you sleep.”

After the bowl was emptied, she ask him if he was having any discomfort anywhere else, to which he weakly pointed to the back of his head and his right side. She did a little poking and prodding, which caused Daniel to hiss in pain, and quickly concluded that he had a cracked or broken rib, and a swelling on the back of his skull. Since the skin wasn’t broken and there was no bleeding around the swollen knot, she turned her attention to the rib.

“In the bedroom there are some bed linens in a dresser,” she stated. “Tear a strip about a foot wide and long enough to go around his body two or three times.”

“Bedroom?” I asked. I wasn’t aware of the existence of a bedroom. After Daniel had caught me snooping in his desk, I’d purposely left off with any further exploration of his house or his belongings.

“It’s through the kitchen,” she said as she crushed yet another plant into one of the bowls of water.

I took a candle from the mantle and entered the kitchen. Sure enough, in the far corner of the room was a doorway that I hadn’t noticed before. I pushed through it and felt like I’d stepped back in time. This room was unlike all of the others in the house in that it was warm, and not with the heat of a fire, but with the warm lingering presence of those who’d once occupied it. I sat the candle down on a small round table by the door and looked around. The dim light revealed a large, neatly made bed with an intricate coverlet; a small square table in the corner with assorted brushes, combs and miniature glass bottles aligned neatly in rows; a rocker in another corner, its only occupant a wooden basket with thread spilling out of the top; a small fireplace with a lone crucifix hanging over the mantle; a tiny knife and an unfinished carving lying on the bedside table; and all over the walls, everywhere I turned, Daniel’s artwork.

I wanted to stay in this room and thoroughly explore it. I yearned to sit on the bed and study every square of paper tacked to the walls, especially the large unusual one hanging over the head of the bed, but Molly was waiting for me in the other room. So, I found the linen in the dresser, ripped off an appropriately sized strip and with my candle, returned to main room. I made a silent promise to myself to find a way to return to that bedroom at the earliest opportunity.

She and I together lifted Daniel up just enough to bind his ribs tightly with the linen.

“This bowl of brideswort is last thing you have to drink, and then you can rest,” Molly said, as she held the bowl up to his mouth. “And before you complain that it tastes like horse piss, I already know that and there’s nothing to be done about it. So unless you want to lie here all night and writhe in pain, you’ll quit looking at me that way and just drink this down like a man.” Daniel’s small laugh turned into a sharp hiss of pain as he strained to choke down that last bowl of tea.

I talked to Daniel quietly while Molly set about the task of cleaning up. His dark eyes were becoming dulled with fatigue as the tea began to take effect, but I wanted to try and get at least some explanation of what had happened before he drifted off.

“Did Samuel and his friends do this?” I was already sure of the answer, but wanted to hear it from him. He sighed and merely nodded. “For what reason?” I added. He sighed again and closed his eyes, effectively ending my questioning with his silent refusal to answer. Within a few minutes, the tea produced the intended results. Daniel was deeply asleep.

 

* * *

  
I sat in the desk chair, still relegated to my former post at the head of Daniel’s bed, while Molly sat on the edge of the bed, alongside of him. She tenderly ran her fingers through his hair and lightly touched the various cuts and bruises on his face. Daniel was resting easy and seemed unaffected by her gentle attentions. With the crisis averted, I finally took a moment to study the woman sitting beside me.

She was tall for a woman, nearly six feet if I had to estimate; she’d stood almost eye-to-eye with me in the tavern. Strong boned and rather thin for her frame. I’d thought her plain upon first meeting her, but now was forced to revise that opinion. Her features when taken separately were unremarkable: clear green eyes of an ordinary hue, a nose that some might think a bit too large for a woman, lips of an average thickness, a round face, and common brown hair. But when she smiled, it all came together and in that instant, she became strangely attractive. She was a most unique woman.

“What is behind this vendetta Samuel seems to have against Daniel?” I asked.

She sighed deeply. “That’s Daniel’s story to tell— _if_ he wants ye to know it—not mine. But I will tell ye one thing. Those four, with Samuel being the worst, are piss poor excuses for men, pardon my language. I wouldn’t give ye a halfpenny for the whole lot of them, and would spit in their faces if they were dying and asked me for help. Now this one…” She reached down and took Daniel’s limp hand in both of hers. “This one is one of the best men I know, and that’s including my own father. They don’t come any better than Daniel Hart. He’s honest, hard-working, and fiercely loyal to ye once you’ve proven your worth to him. He makes ye laugh, but often times ye want to hit him over the head with an axe handle to shake the stubbornness in him loose. If ye haven’t discovered that pig-headedness yet, you will before long.” She flashed her green eyes to mine in amusement and grinned knowingly.

I had to smile at her description of him. “Have you known him long?”

“Aye, we grew up together. Hunted, fished, chased each other through the woods, pretending we were fighting in great battles for the king.” Then she sighed and ran her fingers up his arm and to his face again. “Then he became a man and I became a woman. I chased after him something shameless then. He was so handsome and quick to laughter. But he never paid any attention to the lassies, not in that way. He only had eyes for the lads. That’s always been his way from the very beginning.”

“You’re in love with him.” It wasn’t a question, but a simple statement of fact, obvious even to me.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a sad smile. “He would make a fine husband, he would. I’m not the only girl in this town who knows that. There’s a few of us would like to make an honest man of him, but he’s not in the least interested. But of course, you know that.” She glanced side-long at me and winked. “I hope ye don’t mind."

“Mind?” I asked, confused.

“Mind my touching him,” she answered, running her fingers through hair again. “I only get to do this when he’s ill. I hope you’re not offended.”

“Not at all,” I assured her. “Perhaps it comforts him even in sleep.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled mischievously. “But it certainly comforts _me._ ” Then she sighed heavily, the humor gone as quickly as it had come. “I envy ye, Michael. I think perhaps he cares for ye, and ye for him. And though it hurts like the devil for me to say it, the best thing would be for the both of you to leave this town and make a life somewhere else. I’d much rather him leave than have him stay here and me have to watch him die. Because he will. Samuel will eventually see it done.”

“Is there not someone we could report this to? Some authority?” I asked.

She laughed bitterly. “Samuel’s father is the constable, has been for as long as I can remember. Ye could report it, but nothing would be done about it. In fact, they’d probably find some way to turn it around and blame it on Daniel. He’d end up in the gaol with the life beat out of him. That’s the way of things in this place.” Then she lifted those clear green eyes to mine and they were steely cold. “Sometimes the best justice is _private_ justice.” A silent understanding passed between us. Molly was a woman after my own heart, especially when it came to Daniel. Samuel and his friends had no inkling of whom they were dealing with.

“I’d best be going home,” she said finally.

She gave me detailed instructions on how to change the poultice and how often to administer the brideswort and chamomile, as well as an admonition to come get her at once if he worsened.

“What we must watch for now is the fever. If the wound gets red and hot to the touch, then the fever is not far behind. I’ll come 'round everyday at five to check him before I go to the tavern. But in-between times, if you see the signs, don’t hesitate to come and get me.”

After she left, I sat in the rocker for awhile and watched him sleep, but with nothing constructive to occupy my mind, my thoughts inevitably turned to the bedroom, specifically the strange picture over the headboard. Before that voice in my head could finish telling me that it was the wrong thing to do, I found myself in that room, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Daniel’s unusual drawing.

It was a most disturbing picture and I couldn’t figure out why. It was filled with thick vertical black slashes, parallel to each other, with unevenly spaced gaps in between. The slashes were huge in the foreground—reaching from the top of the paper to the bottom—while in the far corner they were small, only a finger in length. The slashes were easy to identify for anyone who’d grown up on a farm. What I was looking at was a wall of a barn. The gaps between the boards allowed air to circulate through the structure and dry the hay. It was obviously drawn in correct perspective, with the closer boards being larger than the ones further away. Was the barn in this picture the same one I’d found Daniel in? In the bottom right corner of the drawing I could barely see something resembling a harness of some sort. Perhaps for a horse? Or a yolk for oxen? Only part of it was visible, so it was difficult to discern exactly what the object was. The rest of the paper was blank.

But something about the entire drawing was off somehow. I studied it for awhile trying to discover what it was about it that made me so uneasy. Without thinking, I began to tilt my head to the left and downward. It was almost as if the drawing was unconsciously forcing my head in that direction. When my head reached a certain angle, it finally became clear what was so unnerving about this picture: the view of the barn’s wall had been drawn from a prone position. The perspective of the drawing was way below eye level. Daniel had drawn this scene as if he were lying on the floor. A very strange and uneasy feeling swept over me at this realization. Why would Daniel draw the wall from that angle? The only explanation that came to mind was that he’d lain on that floor and seen that view from that angle with his own eyes, and for some reason he’d felt compelled to put that image onto paper, and to hang it in a prominent place in this room where it could be easily seen.

My curiosity burned to know the story behind this drawing. I made a promise to myself that as soon as Daniel was fully recovered I would ask him about it.

 

* * *

 

When morning arrived, I changed Daniel’s poultice as instructed. He roused briefly and opened his eyes, but I didn’t think he recognized me, or else was in too much pain to attempt to speak. In any regard, by the time Molly arrived at five, Daniel’s skin was dry and scorching to the touch. The fever had arrived.

A new foul-smelling poultice was added to his treatment: a combination of garlic and comfrey to treat the infection in the wound, as Molly informed me while mixing the putrid stuff in a bowl. One benefit of it was that there was no longer any danger of Daniel’s mouthwatering smell becoming a temptation to me, no matter how thirsty I got. The smells in the small cottage were vile, but since Molly assured me that the odorous herbs would help Daniel recover I learned to tolerate them.

The next four days passed in a mind-numbing dusk-to-dawn routine of applying the herbs to the wound, changing bandages, attempting to get Daniel to drink snapdragon tea for the fever when he was barely even conscious. Molly bathed his body with cold water drawn from the stream to try and bring the fever down, but after she’d leave for the evening, I would disrobe and crawl beneath the thin cover with him. Though oftentimes delirious, Daniel would instinctively draw close to my cold skin and wrap himself around me like a living blanket. But instead of seeking warmth, he was seeking relief from it. I was ashamed that I liked the scorching heat that radiated out of his skin, even as he fought against whatever it was that was trying to take his life. I talked to him softly during those times we held each other, a constant stream of comforting words and pleas for him to fight and not give up. I had no idea whether he heard me, but I continued nonetheless.

At dawn on the fifth day, I began to have my doubts as to whether Daniel was going to live. Despite Molly giving him an even stronger dosage of the herbal teas, his fever still raged on relentlessly. On that last day, he thrashed around restlessly in the bed instead of lying close and still against me. He talked almost constantly, although very little of it made any sense. By early afternoon, his thrashing had become so violent that I feared he would hurt himself. So I held him down forcibly, knowing that my fingers were leaving bruises everywhere I touched. I held him still and listened helplessly to his heart thunder in his chest as the battle raged on inside his body.

If I’d believed in God, I would have prayed for him, but since I didn’t, I began to debate my options, of which I had only two: let him die or change him. The problem was, neither option was an acceptable one. I couldn’t stand the thought of watching this man die, but neither could I imagine changing him, and thus sentencing him to an eternity in this hellish existence just to keep him by my side.

By late afternoon, the thrashing began to gradually lessen. It finally stopped, along with the delirious ranting. His body became very still; his heart slowed its frantic rhythm. I slowly removed my hands from his arms, sat back onto the bed beside him, and waited. I listened for the sound of his heart faltering or his breathing becoming more shallow, both signs of the death I knew was coming. A voice was screaming inside my head, the same phrase over and over: _What are you waiting for??!_ He was dying and my indecision had me completely paralyzed at his side. Finally, after I’d spent an inordinate amount of time trying to imagine my life without him, I arrived at a decision. I leaned closer to him until our faces were mere inches apart. His lips were slightly parted; his warm breath blew gently into my nostrils every time he exhaled. I suddenly had an overwhelming compulsion to kiss those lips. I wanted to feel the heat of his mouth on mine once more before I took his humanity from him.

I pressed my mouth tenderly onto his and held it there for a few moments, and then found, to my dismay, that I couldn’t pull away. Once was not enough, it seemed. I kissed him again, closing my eyes and savoring the taste of his lips as I gently sucked first one and then the other into my mouth. I offered up a silent apology to him for what I was about to do, as I finally abandoned his mouth and began slowly kissing my way down the side of his jaw toward his neck.

“Michael, what are you doing?”

I completely froze in mid-kiss at the unexpected sound of his voice. I pulled back to look at his face, and I felt sure the same confused expression was on mine as was on his.

“Why are you kissing me?” he asked, his voice weak, but clear. He was lucid, and most definitely alive!

I didn’t want to tell him the real reason I’d been kissing my way down to his neck, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. “I like it.” And immediately I wished I’d chosen something else, because a wide and wicked grin spread slowly over his bruised face.

“That’s three things you like about me now.” He chuckled softly and attempted a wink. “If you don’t watch, pretty soon you’re going to want to marry me and bear my children.”

I laughed heartily at the absurdity of his remark, but more out of sheer relief that he was actually alive. “If either one of those were possible, I would gladly do both!”

He looked at me strangely and then frowned again in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine now,” I said, still smiling. “I thought you were…oh, never mind.”

At that moment, Molly knocked and then walked in without waiting for a response, as had become her habit the past four days. When she saw Daniel awake, and the smile on my face, she made a whimpering sound, dropped her basket, and bounded across the room toward the bed. I moved out of her way just in time.

“Daniel!” she exclaimed. Before he could respond, she took his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth, a deep and lingering kiss that left Daniel rather nonplussed and me highly amused at his discomfort. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, he peered at me over her shoulder, his eyebrows knotted together in a frown.

“Why is everybody kissing me today?” he asked, puzzled.

Molly and I sat on the bed by his side and took turns filling him in on the events of the past six days. At the end, he announced that he was starving. Molly left, promising him she’d return with something wonderful to help him get his strength back.

After she’d closed the door softly behind her, Daniel looked at me with some sort of emotion bordering on adoration. I squirmed underneath the weight of his intent stare. “You took care of me…for six days?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “Of course. With Molly’s help. You seem surprised by that.”

Instead of responding, he smiled and beckoned me closer. “You know that kissing thing you were doing earlier? Let’s do that again before Molly gets back.”

He laughed at my reaction, but his laughter quickly died as my mouth closed over his.


	5. The Proposition and Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two meals mentioned in this chapter:  
> Venison Potage: potage is stew. So venison potage is similar to our Beef Stew.  
> Red Deer Pastie: think of a pastie as an apple turnover without the apple. Inside the crust you’d often find various meats, fish and vegetables. It was served hot or cold.
> 
> Molly: (this term does not refer to the female character “Molly” in the story). In the instances in which it was used in this chapter, a molly is defined as an effeminate homosexual man. It was a derogatory term when used by heterosexuals. However, it was commonly accepted term and was used quite often in conversation among homosexuals themselves in the 17th and 18th centuries.
> 
> Sod: shortened form of the word sodomite.
> 
> Shite: vulgar variation of 'shit'

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

“You know how much I care about you, but damn, you’re freezing me to death, Michael!”

We were lying together in Daniel's bed under a mound of thick blankets enjoying the quiet hours of early morning. “Perhaps if you weren’t coiled around me like a snake around a branch, you wouldn’t be so cold."

“Good point you have there,” he acknowledged, grinning and untangling his body from around mine at the same time.

Thus started the first day of his recovery. It was a long, slow process getting him back onto his feet. Days of forcing Molly’s nourishing venison potage into him meal after meal; of listening to his grumbling when he couldn’t make it to the privy on his own; of watching him weakly walk circles around the room with the stubborn determination of a turtle crossing a crowded road; of listening to him gripe when I’d insisted on a bath. The complaints never ended. Daniel did not make a very good patient, and I was an even worse nurse.

By the fifth day, I was ready to kill him, but instead settled for an evening away from him. Molly agreed to sit with him while I went to London on “business”. He grumbled something about being treated like a babe in arms, but was ignored by both of us.

By the seventh day, he was getting noticeably stronger, but was still far away from being back to normal. As he rested on the bed, after slowly walking several circles around the outside of the cottage, I finally broached the subject that he’d been studiously avoiding ever since he’d woke from his fever. “I think it’s time you tell me what happened, don’t you? I can most likely guess, but it would be nice to hear it from someone who was actually there.”

He made an exasperated noise when he realized I wasn’t going to give up. I’d asked him every day to tell me, and he’d either flat out refused or ignored me.

“Well hell, it’s so hard to figure out,” he said sarcastically. “Let’s see, I went outside to get some wood for the bin, and lo and behold four people sneaked up behind me. Want to guess who they were?”

I glared at him, but it had no effect. He was treating the whole thing much more casually than I thought proper.

“They forced me to go to the barn. And before you ask, no I didn’t fight them. When you have a dagger at your throat, one poking you in the side, and another aimed at your cock, you tend to do what you’re told. They beat the daylights out of me, hit me over the head with something really heavy, and when I came to, they beat the daylights out of me some more. Then Samuel got a hankering to play darts with his knife, with me serving as the dartboard, you understand." He grinned and winked. "Luckily, I moved out of the way at the last moment or he would have hit the bull’s eye.”

I wanted to throttle the cocky bastard with something heavy myself right at that moment. He’d almost died and yet seemed to be taking the whole thing with a grain of salt. Instead of berating him for his lackadaisical attitude, I changed the subject. “What happened to your fingers?”

He raised his hand and studied it closely like he’d never noticed his crooked fingers before. “Hmmm, if I recall correctly, it was a hammer that did it.”

I shot him an amused look and laughed. “You do know you’re supposed to hit the spike, not your fingers.”

“The hammer wasn’t in _my_ hand at the time,” he answered simply and then dropped back onto the bed.

Startled, I rose up on one elbow to look at him. “You mean someone else did that to you? Who??”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago,” he said without meeting my eyes. “Molly tried her best to fix it, but the girl wasn’t a bone surgeon. At least I can still use them and I have her to thank for that.”

“What about the scar on your ribs?” I asked, pointing to where it would have been visible if it weren’t currently hidden under layers of tightly wrapped linen.

“Knife fight with Samuel,” he said, shrugging. “That was back when I wasn’t very good. I’m much better now at avoiding the point of a blade, except when three men are holding me fast. Then I have a little problem. But usually, if I can move, no man’s going to stick me very easily.”

“And the scar on your thigh?”

He chuckled. “That one was my own damned fault. Ripped my leg open on a sharp branch whilst falling out of a tree.”

“Picking apples, were you?” I asked sarcastically. It didn’t take much reasoning to figure out what he was doing in a tree in the first place.

“Trying to get my head out of a noose, actually,” he answered with a crooked grin. “Samuel’s doing.”

“And you find all of this amusing, do you?!” I asked hotly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter whether I do or don’t. It’s all in the past. Nothing to be done about it now.”

“No, you’re wrong about that. There’s always something that can be done. All you have to do is wait for the right opportunity to come your way.”

He stared at me, all manner of humor gone from his face. I wondered what thoughts were behind those deep brown eyes, as his expression gave no clues.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

* * *

  
“What day is it?” Daniel was sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his boots when I returned from bringing in the wood. We were currently on the ninth day of his recovery and I was just now beginning to see a small glimmer of dim light at the end of this long, dark tunnel we’d been moving through together the past week.

“Thursday. Why?” I asked, eying him suspiciously.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, walking across the room to the desk. “I’m going to the tavern. They have my second favorite meal on Thursdays: Red Deer Pasties.”

My mouth dropped open in shock at his pronouncement, but thankfully he didn’t see it. He was too occupied with hiding assorted daggers all over his body. “Have you lost your mind?!” I snapped, not bothering to hide my extreme disapproval of this idea.

“Not at all,” he answered calmly as he raised his shirt and stuck a small dagger down inside the waistband of his breeches.

“You’re not going,” I ordered.

That got his attention.  He stopped fooling with the knives and raised his gaze to mine. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said slowly, his eyes very nearly black with anger.

I could see straight away that ordering him wasn’t going to work, so I tried the reasoning approach. “There’s plenty of food here. You don’t need to go to the tavern.”

“Molly’s venison potage is excellent, but unlike you, I get tired of eating the same thing every day,” he said as he reached around behind him to secrete another dagger somewhere along the small of his back.

“You’re not strong enough. Your rib hasn’t healed and you still have the stitches in your wound.”

He grinned at me and then laughed, that cocky laugh that made me want to close my fingers around his neck and squeeze really hard. “I’m pretty sure the deer will be dead when they serve it to me. I don’t think I’m required to wrestle it to the ground and kill it with my bare hands first.” He bent over and stuck another dagger into the top of his boot. When he straightened back up, he glanced my way and saw how infuriated I was. “That was a joke. Where is your sense of humor?” he asked, chuckling.

“The same damned place your common sense is!”

His whole body tensed and I could almost physically feel his anger radiating all the way across the room.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice shaking now with barely contained rage. “Not go to the tavern and enjoy a meal because I might run into Samuel? Should I stop going to town too, because we might accidentally run into each other at the market? Or maybe you want me to quit walking around on my own land because I might be ambushed again! Do you want me to hide in my house like a damned coward, Michael?! Is that what you want?!”

“Of course not, you idiot! But you came perilously close to dying! At least wait until you’re stronger!”

He walked to the door and yanked his coat off the peg. As he carefully shrugged it on he glared at me. “The mothering is getting a little tiresome. Either shut up and go with me, or shut up and stay here. Your choice.”

He shut the door behind him, leaving me alone and seething with the desire to strangle the life out of him. _The damned idiot!_ If it was death he wanted, I could send him there quicker and with much less fuss! There was no way this side of hell that he was going to the tavern just to have a relaxing meal of Red Deer Pasties. He knew that and I knew that. Molly was right. Daniel was nothing but a frustrating pig-headed mule who needed an axe handle taken to his head to make him see reason!

I cursed aloud to an empty room as I grabbed my coat and went out into the night to catch up with him. If Daniel thought my mothering was getting tiresome he should try protecting a stubborn arrogant fool who was hell bent on getting himself killed!

* * *

  
Of course, Samuel and his three cohorts were at the tavern, as I'd known they would be, occupying a table by the door, in full view of everyone in the room. Surprisingly, Daniel only glanced in their direction as we made our way to a table far away from them. No sooner had we gotten settled, than Molly appeared to take our order, and she was not happy to see Daniel.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her green eyes blazing.

“Wonderful. I have two mothers now,” he muttered under his breath, too soft for Molly to hear, but not for me. Then he hazarded a cautious look up at her and spoke in a very calm, contrite voice. “I know I should have waited a little longer, but I couldn’t stand the thought of eating that potage another night—not that it isn’t excellent—" he added hastily. “—but I had a yearning for something different tonight, that’s all.”

I stared at him like he’d suddenly grown another head. Not twenty minutes ago, he‘d been ready to take my head off for even suggesting he should stay home. Now, here he was admitting the same thing to Molly. The man was a frustrating conundrum.

His ridiculous explanation seemed to placate Molly, so she bustled off to get his food without any further tongue lashing. The meal passed without incident. Daniel ate at a leisurely pace and seemed to be enjoying his food. He also seemed unaffected by the loud laughter coming from Samuel’s table. I, on the other hand, kept a close eye on the four men the entire time. Despite their laughter, I sensed a definite tension pervading the room. I wondered if Daniel sensed it as well.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “That was perfect. Just what I needed,” he said, giving me a sidelong glance. “You ready to go?”

I nodded, thankful that the evening was nearing its end, and without anything untoward happening. Perhaps he had been telling me the truth after all. Maybe a nice meal was all he’d wanted. We almost made it to the door before that idea was dashed into a thousand pieces. Daniel suddenly stopped right in front of Samuel’s table, causing me to bump into him from behind.

“Samuel.” Daniel acknowledged him with a nod of his head, his voice dripping with male ego and his characteristic arrogance. _Damnation._

Samuel sat in his seat smirking smugly back at him without even acknowledging his greeting. It only took a few moments for the entire room to fall completely silent. Evidently everyone had been expecting this confrontation and was waiting eagerly to see the outcome. Only _I_ seemed to have been fool enough to think we’d make it out of here without incident.

“I sure hope you can aim your cock better than you can your knife,” Daniel said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Because you just…can’t…seem…to _ever_ hit the right spot.”

“What in the hell are you doing?” I hissed under my breath. I was standing right behind him, so close that I knew he could feel my icy breath on his neck. He’d heard me; he was simply ignoring me.

Samuel pushed his chair back and slowly stood, his eyes never wavering from Daniel’s face. “Well, it seems cocksuckers have nine lives, too,” he said, sneering. “Which one are we on now? Number four? Or is it five? I seemed to have lost count.”

It astounded me that Daniel managed to ignore his taunting and speak as if he hadn't heard the insult. “Why don’t we go outside? No friends. No knives. Just you and me,” Daniel said calmly, as he began to disarm himself. He pulled his shirt out of his breeches, retrieved the knife from his waistband and tossed it into the middle of their table. Next came the one from the small of his back, and then the one out of his boot. He raised his shirt and pulled out the lining of his pockets so everyone could see he was unarmed.

“I’m not going anywhere with the likes of you,” Samuel said.

“I would reconsider that if I were you. I don’t think you want the rest of the room to hear what I’m going to say.” They stared each other down while we all waited nervously.

“Like I need friends or knives to kick a filthy bugger’s arse.” Samuel chuckled arrogantly as he began tossing his own knives onto the table.

“Daniel, stop this!” Molly was approaching the table from across the room. I was already on my way to intercept her before Daniel had a chance to murmur the same thing over his shoulder.

I moved in front of her, blocking her progress. “Don’t,” I said softly. “Daniel’s not stupid.” Even though at the moment, I thought he most certainly was. “He’s not going to provoke a fight,” I continued, although I had my doubts about _that_ , as well. Despite my assurances, I could see the same thoughts going through her head as were going through mine. She knew Daniel much better than I did, but I was quickly catching up to her in that regard. The man was impulsive, stubborn and unpredictable, but even with all of that, he was damned courageous. My first instinct was to protect him, which was exactly what he didn’t want. It was going to take every bit of strength I had to watch him walk outside with that man alone.

Both of them began moving to the entrance, Samuel in front and Daniel following behind. Samuel’s friends made a move to follow, but one soft snarl and murderous glare from me changed their minds. After they’d shut the door behind them, I stood by the entrance so I could keep a close eye on the trio, but mainly so that I could listen to Samuel and Daniel’s conversation. I planned on quickly intervening if things suddenly went to hell.

The conversation outside began, and it was nothing like I’d expected. No shouting or male posturing of any sort. Instead, both of their voices were soft as if they were standing very close to one another. My curiosity instantly piqued as they began talking:

Daniel: _“Why don’t we stop playing this game with each other? You know the one: where you keep trying to kill me and I keep trying not to die? We both know what you want, so let’s just be done with this nonsense once and for all.”_

Samuel: _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

Daniel: _“Come to my house tonight and I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”_

Things went strangely quiet for a few moments. And then…

Daniel: _“I’ve always been partial to blonde hair, did you know that? Yours is very nice, so thick and wavy. I could spend all night running my fingers through it.”_

What in damnation was Daniel doing?! Was he actually propositioning him??

Samuel: (sarcastic) _“Have you run this idea by your molly? He might not like me paying you a late-night visit.”_

Daniel: (chuckling) _“Don’t worry about Michael. He does whatever I tell him. He’ll leave us alone.”_

I snarled under my breath at the arrogance I heard in Daniel’s voice. I could just envision the smirk that was probably on his face at that very moment. He and I were going to have a long conversation about the nature of our relationship when this was over.

Samuel: _“I’m a married man. I have children and a reputation to think about.”_

Daniel: _“Who’s going to know? I won’t tell. You already know how well I keep a secret. Come to my house…tonight. I’ll do whatever you want. You won’t regret the decision, I promise you. I’m very, very good. If you could ask Michael, he’d tell you. He begs me for it every night. Come on, Samuel. I know you dream about it. Come to my house.”_

I beg him for it?! I had no idea on this earth what Daniel was up to, but I was very close to storming out the door and choking the life out of him just to shut him up.

Samuel: _“I am **not** a bugger.”_

Daniel: _“Of course you aren’t. I know that, and it’s all right. Michael prefers women as well, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying me every night.”_

And then I heard something that made my jaw drop open in shock. There was no mistaking that sound. They were kissing! _Kissing!!_ Daniel was kissing the man whose sole mission in life seemed to be to wipe him off the face of the earth! The man who had just gotten through stabbing him with a dagger, a man who had tried to hang him, for God’s sake! The whole conversation made no sense to me at all and had me boiling with anger at Daniel’s—I didn’t even know what to call it—his stupidity? His audacity??

Samuel: (angry) _“Don’t do that! Don’t you ever touch me like that again! I don’t want anything to do with your perversions, no matter what you may think. I’m a God-fearing Catholic and you, Daniel, are an abomination to God, the Church and every red-blooded man in this town!”_

Daniel: (chuckling) _“My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend your sensibilities. I just wanted to give you a sample of what you could expect, since I’m much better at kissing than I used to be. And no matter how much you protest, you and I both know what you want. We know it in our hearts. So when you decide to finally listen to yours, you know where to find me.”_

The door swung open and a red-faced Samuel hurriedly retrieved his knives from the table, brusquely told his companions he was leaving, and then turned around and left as quickly as he’d come in. I followed him out and watched his receding form as he started off in the opposite direction from Daniel’s house.

Daniel, on the other hand, was already on his way up the rutted road toward home. I dashed back into the tavern and assured Molly that he was unscathed from the confrontation, while I stuffed his knives back into my pockets. Then I started out after him, my temper still simmering hot from their conversation. When I arrived alongside of him, he didn’t even acknowledge my presence. He just stared straight ahead and kept walking at a clipped pace.

“What the hell was that about?!” I shouted into the still night air.

“Shut up, Michael.”

“I do whatever you tell me?! I beg you for it every night?! Where did that ridiculous nonsense come from?!”

“Shut up!!” he yelled and continued walking, but I kept pace with him, berating him with every step.

“And you kissed the man?! I can’t believe you did that! Why in God’s name would you kiss someone who just tried to kill you? Are you completely and utterly insane?!”

 _“SHUT. UP!”_ he snarled in fury.

He made a choking sound and before I knew what was happening, he was stumbling over into the edge of the woods and violently vomiting. I stood by and watched helplessly as his entire dinner ended up at his feet. And even after there was nothing left to expel, still he heaved and wretched for the longest time. Finally he stopped. He was still standing, but he’d collapsed back against a tree in exhaustion, gasping and moaning and occasionally still gagging.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” My temper had calmed while he was being sick, and now I was just very concerned for him. He looked pale and not at all well.

“Just leave me alone,” he answered weakly. “Can you just do that one thing?”

I said nothing else to him. I followed behind him as he slowly made his way the rest of the way home. I never offered my help, not even when he stumbled. He wanted to be left alone, so I was going to respect his wishes, no matter how hard it was to stand aside and do nothing when he was obviously sick.

When we got back to the cottage, he silently hung his coat on the peg, pulled his boots off and disappeared without comment into the kitchen. I poked at the fire for a bit as I waited for his return, but when minutes turned into nearly a half an hour, I went to investigate. He wasn’t in the kitchen, but the door to the bedroom was open. I fought a major battle within myself as to what to do. He’d asked to be left alone, so the right thing to do would be to respect his wishes. But something was obviously wrong. If he was physically ill, I should return to the tavern for Molly. But I hadn’t heard any more of the retching, so the worst had probably passed. The whole situation was just so confusing, and my curiosity was eating away at me. Finally I decided to take the chance. The worst he could do was to send me away.

I cautiously approached the doorway and then hesitated just inside it before entering. The room was lit only with the soft glow of the moon shining in through the parted curtains. Daniel was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, staring at the floor. “Can I come in?”

He sighed deeply, raised his head and shrugged. “Sure.”

I sat down beside him on his left. He clasped his hands together between his knees and stared off into the distance. I saw defeat in his slumped shoulders, like he’d given up on something. What it was, I had no idea. “I’m sorry for shouting at you,” I offered, after a short and uncomfortable silence.

“It’s all right,” he mumbled to the floor.

“Was this your parents’ bedroom?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Would you tell me about them?” I asked hesitantly.

He was quiet for so long that I began to think I should leave. I had just about settled my mind to it when he started talking softly. 

I listened without comment as he told me about his parents. They’d been simple folk who’d lived simple lives, he said. His father had been a stern man who’d disapproved of Daniel’s drawing, offering to teach him to whittle instead. They had always been in conflict over one thing or the other, but never had anything serious come of it. His mother had been the lover of art, he said as he smiled sadly. She’d pestered him constantly to draw something for her, and he’d always obliged. She’d been the perfect mother to him, always accepting and loving him despite everything.

Then he went on to confess his guilt over their deaths. Even though they’d both died of disease, and there had been nothing he could have done to prevent that, still he carried the burden of knowing that who and what he was had cast a shadow over their lives. He’d never hidden his penchant for boys. He’d never even considered doing that. He was what he was, he said, shrugging his shoulders. He’d not even thought about what the consequences would be to his family. Only later, after their deaths, had he taken the time to step back and look at things from a different light. Only then had he realized that his parents had been outcasts in the community just like he was now, and all because he’d stubbornly refused to keep his preferences to himself.

I tried to reassure him that their deaths weren’t his fault, but my words fell on deaf ears. But then, I already knew how heavy a burden guilt could be. I’d been carrying my own share of it with me ever since Asha’s death. It hung around your neck heavy as an anvil and dragged you to the ground with its crushing weight.

After he fell silent, I debated the wisdom of tackling the subject of Samuel, and finally decided it felt like the right time. Daniel seemed to be in a strangely pensive mood now, despite his earlier anger. “About your conversation with Samuel. Were you really inviting him here for sex?” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice, but didn’t succeed. The whole incident had left me stymied.

He snorted bitterly. “God, no. But think about it, Michael. It would have worked. When you have a man bent over with his back to you, his attention is going to be completely focused on your cock that’s buried deep inside of him. He’s never going to notice the dagger until after his throat has been slit from ear-to-ear.”

His explanation stunned me. How had I not figured it out before? "You _cannot_ kill him! They’d hang you for it, and you know that. Put that thought out of your head. Just completely forget it.”

“Don’t worry. It was a stupid idea anyway,” he said, sighing in defeat. “I’m just so damned tired of the man. I’m tired of this town, and I’m tired of my life.”

I let that depressing statement hang in the air for awhile before continuing. I was treading on dangerous ground with my next words, but I had to get some answers. The not knowing was only adding fuel to my burning curiosity. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve felt like a blind man must feel. It’s like I’m stumbling around in the dark, bumping into walls trying to find the door, and it’s all because I’m missing something very important and I don’t know what it is,” I said, not even bothering to try and hide my frustration. “Please tell me what is behind all of this hatred between you and Samuel. There has to be a reason for it.”

To my surprise, he began telling me, starting from the week after his father’s death:

“I was fourteen and alone. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I went to my parents’ graves every day and just sat there and wept. When I ran out of tears, I talked. I apologized for every heartache that I’d given them. I begged them to give me some direction, some sign of what to do. Most days it was just me sitting there with my arms wrapped around their stones, crying. Some days, Molly came and sat with me, too, but mostly I was alone. That was when it happened.”

He stopped, and instead of pressing him to continue, I forced myself to wait out his hesitation. I had a dreadful feeling that whatever was coming was going to take all of the courage he had left in him to be able to speak it aloud.

“It was the four of them: Samuel, William, Henry and Adam. They found me there alone, and tore me from my parents’ graves by force.” Then he turned to look at me for the first time, and his dark eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I want you know that I fought them. I fought them with every ounce of strength that I had, but I was only fourteen, still all skinny arms and legs and not sure what to do with them yet. Samuel and the others were ten years older than me and much stronger. But I fought. I truly did.”

“Of course you did,” I murmured in agreement with him, but I could read between the lines. I could hear the guilt and the shame in his words, the feeling that maybe he hadn’t fought hard enough, and if he had fought harder things might have turned out differently. Of course that wasn’t true, but I kept silent and waited for him to go on.

“They took me to the deserted barn. They tied my wrists behind my back. A couple of them held me while the others took turns beating me. They called me the vilest names I’d ever heard. Some of them I hadn’t even known existed. They told me over and over again what I was as they hit me: a boy lover, a queen, a molly, a sod, a bugger, and some of the names were so filthy that I can’t even bear to say them aloud.

“Then the hitting stopped and they shoved me face-down onto the floor. I can close my eyes to this very day and taste the dirt in my mouth, and feel the straw sticking and poking into my bare skin where they’d stripped me of my clothes. I can smell the dried-up horse dung from that barn in my nostrils even now. That is why I walk everywhere. I despise horses.”

I felt a prickle of something stir deep inside of me, something dangerous. I suddenly knew where this story was headed, and I wasn’t sure I could stomach hearing it, and wondered if he could stomach telling it.

“Then…” His voice hitched. I heard the pain in that sound and it tore at my heart. “They raped me. All four of them took turns,” he said, his voice so soft as to be barely heard. “I was an innocent boy. I’d never lain with anyone before. They were grown men and they didn’t care how much it hurt. I’m ashamed to say that I cried like a babe and begged them to stop. They just laughed and continued to pound away at my body, calling me those foul names the whole time.”

He dropped his head into his hands and wept; his body shook with the force of his pain. I was afraid to embrace him, so I ventured a comforting hand on his shoulder. I murmured something, some words of soft assurance that I was sure he didn’t hear. Even if he had, they would probably have done him no good. Some things simply defied words. This was one of those things.

He lifted his head, wiped at his face and continued. “When they finished, I laid on that dirt floor and listened to them talk and laugh amongst themselves about ordinary things, like the terrible thing they’d just done hadn’t even happened. I prayed that they would leave, but they didn’t. Before long, they came back for a second go of it, and with me already hurting and bleeding. I didn’t even bother to beg or cry that time. I just closed my eyes and tried to will myself out of that barn to somewhere else more pleasant.

“After that second time, they left. I waited to make sure, and then dragged myself over to one corner of the barn. I pulled straw over top of me until only my eyes were left uncovered. Then I laid there and stared at the wall. I was trying to find some courage inside of me, courage to get up, get myself home, courage to do something, anything. But I had none."

“Did you tell anyone about this?” I asked when I saw he wasn’t going to continue.

He laughed and it was a rancid, bitter sound. “Who was I going to tell? Samuel’s father was the constable. I had no parents to back me up, no friends to come to my defense, no witnesses. You could scream at the top of your lungs and no one would hear you in that barn. That was why they took me there. It would have just been my word against theirs, a boy versus four grown men. No one would have believed me. Even with all of the bruises and cuts from the beating, they would have just claimed a fight and denied the rest. No one would accept a story of rape without proof, and I was damned sure not going to let anyone check me. I didn’t want anyone to see me, let alone see what they’d done.”

“So, is that the reason Samuel keeps trying to kill you? He’s afraid you’ll tell?” I was sure that I’d finally solved the mystery of their ongoing feud. But Daniel surprised me, as he always seemed to do. He laughed that soft arrogant laugh of his that usually annoyed the hell out me, except this time it sent chills down my back with its strangeness.

“No,” he said with a smug smirk. “That’s not why he wants to kill me. He wants rid of me because I know something about him that he doesn’t want anyone else to know, not even his closest friends. You see, several hours later, Samuel came back to the barn…alone,” Daniel said quietly.

This time he looked straight at me as he talked and his eyes glittered with a malice I’d never seen in him before. The hatred that Daniel held for this man went far deeper than I’d realized.

“He uncovered me and pulled me away from the corner. I knew what he was about without even asking. I begged him not to do it. I told him I was bleeding and in pain, but it was as if I were talking to a ghost. He pushed himself inside of me without any concern for my pain. I remember squeezing my eyes shut and wishing I’d just die while he was going at me. And to make matters worse, he started talking to me, whispering sweet words into my ear while he moved. He told me how smooth my skin was, how I was tight just like a young girl. He kissed my neck and stroked my hair the whole time. The sounds he made in my ear made me sick to my stomach.”

It didn’t escape my attention that he’d unconsciously flinched and moved his neck to the side, like he could actually feel the man’s lips on his skin at that very moment.

“He called me endearing names, things you would say to a sweetheart you were courting. When he finished, he rolled me over onto my back and kissed me.”

A small shudder rippled through Daniel’s body, and I now realized why he’d thrown up his meal after their conversation.

“Just before he left, he told me I’d better not tell a soul about what had happened, especially what had _just_ happened. If I did, he said they’d do the same thing to Molly. Of course, that was the perfect threat to make sure I wouldn't talk. Molly was the only friend I had. I would have never done anything to cause harm to come to her. So, I kept Samuel’s secret for a very long time.

“It wasn’t until a few years later, after I’d lain with a few men, that I came to realize that Samuel had enjoyed his last moments with me in that barn. It took a little experience on my part to finally understand that, and once I did, I let him know I knew, and I rubbed salt in that wound every chance I got. I swaggered in front of him and threw meaningful glances his way when no one else was looking. I provoked him at every turn, and didn’t give a damn about the consequences. I’d found a way, even if it was a small one, to get back at the bastard. Samuel is a man who does not want anyone to know what he really feels, Michael. The thought of people finding out that he enjoyed fucking a man terrifies him. And what he wants more than anything else in this world is to feel my cock inside of his own body, not the other way around. I know he dreams about it.”

By the time he stopped talking, I was livid, but hiding it well. It was all I could do to keep from rushing out of the room to Samuel’s house and ripping him to pieces. Not since my confrontation with Aro had I felt such deep hatred for another person. Daniel interrupted my murderous contemplations with even more of the story, even though I’d thought him finished.

“I laid on that dirt floor for two days,” he said quietly, staring straight ahead. “It took that long for Molly to find me. She was always dogging my heels in those days, and when I didn’t show up at any of our usual meeting places, she started hunting for me. It was almost dark on the second day when she finally discovered me in the barn.

"She took care of me,” he said softly, and I heard genuine heartfelt love for her in those five words. “She brought me clothes, helped me get dressed, let me lean on her as we walked back to my house. She was fourteen years old, just like me, but she bathed me, cleaned the blood off of my body, and gave me medicine to heal the bruises and cuts on my face. I didn’t tell her the whole of it, but I think she guessed what had happened in that barn. I didn’t need to tell her not to say anything. Even then, she knew the way of things in our little town.”

“That picture over the bed—” I started, and then stopped. There was no need to hear his answer. I already knew.

“That view was my entire world for two solid days of pain and humiliation. I didn’t want the hate to fade, not even in the slightest. And not just for Samuel—although I hold an especially deep hatred for him—but for the other three as well. They all took part in it. So I drew that picture to keep me from forgetting.”

I offered my apologies for his pain, and my sincere wish that I’d been there to help him, which meant nothing at this point. In the end, he’d been alone that day and God only knows where _I’d_ been—more than likely mercilessly killing some innocent human while this man, then a boy, had been suffering a different sort of death.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced with a tired sigh. “Although I can’t imagine shutting my eyes without some help. There’s some rum in the cellar. Would you mind getting me a bottle?”

He left the bedroom, leaving me alone to contemplate everything he’d told me in the quiet darkness. I couldn’t change what had happened to Daniel eight years ago, but I could do plenty to help him now. Tomorrow, I was going to broach the subject of leaving, just taking him with me and leaving this god-forsaken town and everyone in it behind us. But before we left, there was something I had to do.

Samuel and his friends didn’t know it, but at that very moment they became walking and breathing dead men. It was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.


	6. The Feeding

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

“What are you doing in that rocker again? Get your arse over here with me.”

Daniel was sitting across the width of his bed with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. After our conversation in the bedroom, I’d been hesitant to come near him, so I’d withdrawn to the rocker and silently watched him consume nearly half of the rum in the bottle. He was just pleasantly drunk at the moment, but was well on his way to getting completely soused if he continued in the direction he was going.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted company.”

“I always want your company. You should know that by now.”

As soon as I settled myself down beside him, he bent his leg until his knee touched mine. I couldn’t help but smile at that small gesture. Daniel was probably not even aware of it, but I’d begun to notice that any time he was near me, some part of his body always ended up touching mine. I took this to be the result of too many years of being alone, too many years of craving the caring touch of another person. Instead of being annoyed at the constant contact, I understood it, identified with it, and found that I rather liked it. But I certainly wasn’t going to tell _him_ that, or he’d tease me about it mercilessly.  Once settled, I pondered the wisdom of trying to have a meaningful conversation with him with the shape he was in, but decided to chance it anyway, since he didn’t seem to be interested in going to sleep anytime soon.

“I want you to listen very carefully to me. You must not go after Samuel on your own,” I reiterated. “You’d never get away with killing him, and seeing you hang isn’t something I want to experience.”

He rolled his head along the wall in my direction and grinned crookedly. “Aww, you _do_ care about me, don’t you? And here I thought you were just using my body to satisfy your perverted vampire desires.” He laughed and then yelped when I elbowed him in his good ribs.

“I am not perverted, but you, my friend, are drunk!”

“Yeah, I am.” He chuckled. “You should try it. It’s very nice.”

“Alcohol has no effect on me, unfortunately.”

He rolled his head toward me again and this time he was frowning. “Damn, it’s a pisser being a vampire, isn’t it? You can’t enjoy a good lamb pie, you don’t sleep, and you can’t get drunk. But hell, at least you can swive, so all is not lost, right?” He raised the bottle in the air and winked at me suggestively.

“How much of that are you going to drink?” Even in his drunken state, he couldn’t have missed the disapproval in my voice.

“Not stopping ‘til I hit the bottom,” he answered, grinning.

“You’re going to be very sick tomorrow if you continue at this rate.”

He sighed deeply and then growled in frustration. “Thank. You. Mother Hart,” he grumbled as he slammed the cork back into the bottle. He tossed it across my body, where it landed a few inches from my side. I pushed it away to the far corner of the bed. He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

There was another topic I wanted to discuss with him, especially before I broached the subject of leaving. However, I was unsure of how he was going to react. One never knew with him. “Daniel…” I started and then hesitated a few seconds before finally jumping into the water with both feet. “Are you aware that Molly is in love with you?”

And of course, he didn’t react as I’d thought he would. A small, rather sad smile appeared at the edges of his mouth. He sighed. “Yes, I’m aware of that."

“Then surely you realize that you don’t have to live like this. You don’t have to be alone. Molly would be the perfect wife for you. She’d make you a nice home. You already know the woman can cook, and she’s better at healing than any doctor around. And…she’d give you children.”

He snorted with derision. “Now why in God’s name would I want to have children? Do you really think the world needs more people like me? I wouldn’t want anyone else, especially my children, to have to live the life I’ve lived.”

“You’re assuming your children would be like you. That may not be the case.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not taking any chances. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, let me enlighten you. There was something wrong with me from the very moment I came out of my mum’s body. Do you think I just woke up one morning and decided I didn’t like the lasses? I was born this way. Somewhere along the line something went wrong and I came out messed up and different from everyone else.”

I had nothing to say back to that, no reassurances that he was wrong, no platitudes to make him feel better, because I knew what it felt like to think there was something inherently wrong with you. I’d felt that way since the day Asha had changed me. Unlike Daniel, I’d hidden my imperfections, cloaked them in a thick covering of civility. Until Asha’s death. Then, I’d thrown off that cloak, and unleashed them upon the world without conscience.

“And you’re forgetting one other thing.” He grinned at me and then continued, “To have children you have to, well, you know. And there is no way in hell I’m doing that with Molly, or any woman for that matter.”

“It’s not that difficult of a thing to accomplish.” I chuckled. “You’re doing the same thing, except you’re just putting it in a slightly different place. It slides in easier too, especially when the woman’s nice and slick for you.” I was needling him now, which always gave me great pleasure, especially when he got that disgusted, nauseous look on his face that he had now.

For once, he ignored my teasing. “Yeah, well Molly and I tried that once when we were eighteen. It didn’t work out. I couldn’t do it. Hell, I couldn’t even get a cock-stand. It hurt her feelings and then I felt like horse shit for even trying. So, that option is out for me. I’d rather live alone than try to be someone I’m not.”

I had planned on waiting until tomorrow when he was sober to bring up the subject of leaving, but for some unknown reason it just spewed out of my mouth before I could stop it. “So, you wouldn’t be averse to leaving?” I asked hesitantly.

He snorted. “Hell no. I’d leave this damned place in a heartbeat and never look back if I had someplace to go.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to leave with _me_ when I decide to move on…” I left the statement hanging expectantly in the air. He stared down at his lap for a time, making me wonder what exactly he was thinking. Finally, he turned his body around until he was facing me and drew his legs up underneath him. His dark eyes found mine and I was moved by the depth of emotion in them.

“Yes. I’d leave and go anywhere with you, so long as I was by your side.”

A strange sense of déjà vu swept over me, a feeling that I’d had this conversation before, and I _had_ , I realized, with Asha. Then the sensation was gone as quickly as it had come. I smiled and he smiled in return. “Then we’ll start making plans. I’ll have to find a place, probably in London, for us to settle temporarily until we decide on something permanent, and you need to tidy up your affairs here.” And there was also that other loose end that needing tying up: Samuel and his friends. But that was going to be my task, not Daniel’s.

We then began to discuss the specifics: what he should do with the cottage and land (we decided to deed it to Molly), what he should do with his parents’ belongings (he decided to take what meant the most to him and leave the rest as it lay), and where we should go first (we both agreed London, my first suggestion, would be the ideal choice; more people meant more anonymity for us.)

While we talked, the alcohol finished working its way through his system, and sleep was coming fast upon him. Eventually, our conversation dwindled down to a word here and there and then finally to nothing. He stripped off his clothing and crawled between the blankets, beckoning me to do the same. I tried to keep a foot’s distance between us, mostly out of consideration for his comfort, but the man always wrapped himself around me like a clinging vine, completely ignoring my protests that my skin was too cold for him. Only when his entire body had become covered in gooseflesh and he’d begun to shiver, did he ever voluntarily move away from me.

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke softly, his voice heavy with the drowsiness of impending sleep.

“Of course.”

“In your world, the vampire world, is it illegal to swive a man?”

“There are only two things that matter in my world: blood and power. Everything else is meaningless,” I answered. “And to answer your question specifically: no. Nobody cares who you have sex with or how often.”

Of course, I’d purposely failed to mention one important detail: having a long-term relationship with a human, sexual or otherwise, was definitely illegal. Involving Daniel in my life was a dangerous thing to do, for both of us. And although I cared not one whit for my own life—as evidenced by my centuries-long self-destructive binge—I cared very deeply for Daniel’s. Even as he laid his head against my shoulder and began to drift off, my decision to ask him to leave with me had already begun to weigh heavily upon my conscience.

* * *

  
“Feeling poorly?” I watched him pick half-heartedly at his breakfast. He was no doubt suffering some ill effects from the previous night’s indulgences, but whether from the rum or the painful confessions from his past, I had no inkling.

“No, I’m fine.”

He’d been very quiet and somewhat distracted all morning, going about his daily routine in a stubborn silence. No matter how hard I’d tried to draw him into conversation, he’d rebuffed me at every turn. We spent a useless afternoon in the woods again, hacking up fallen trees under a cold stone-gray sky. I’d pointed out that storing up firewood was unnecessary since we were planning to leave soon, but he’d simply grabbed up an axe and walked off toward the forest, leaving me to wonder, once again, what had happened to his common sense.

The day passed much differently from our last outing into the woods. There was no pleasant conversation between us, just a quiet, but comfortable, camaraderie broken only by the sounds of our axes digging into the logs. No sun burst through the clouds to warm my skin. It was too chilly to shed shirts, at least for Daniel. It was so cold, in fact, that he blew white plumes of smoke with each breath he exhaled from his lungs. Winter would be soon upon us, and it would be best if we were gone from this place before it settled in to stay.

As soon as we returned to the cottage, Daniel immediately hung a kettle of water over the fire to heat. He went into the other rooms and rummaged around, while I hung back and enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace. When he returned with fresh clothes draped over his arm, I watched from the rocker as he stripped off and bathed while perched on the edge of a chair. Using a cloth and the warm water from the kettle, he meticulously cleaned every inch of his thick, muscular frame.

He glanced in my direction, perhaps from feeling my constant gaze on his nude body, and grinned crookedly. “See something you like?”

“I was simply noticing the differences in our two bodies. You’re very muscular and strong.”

He laughed as he began to dry himself with a large towel. “Not as strong as you. Even with that scrawny body of yours, you could easily tear me to pieces.”

“I suppose I should have been more specific, then. For a _human,_ you’re very strong.”

He finished toweling off and quickly donned the clean clothes. He grabbed the poker and stirred up the fire a bit and then settled back down onto the chair. He stretched his stocky legs out in front of him, crossed his feet at the ankles and his arms across his chest.  “About that.” He hesitated and stared at the fire. “I want to ask you something, and I’ve been thinking about this for awhile.” Then he stopped, as if weighing his next words carefully. He dropped his eyes to the floor for several moments, before finally taking a deep breath and raising his determined gaze to meet mine. “I want you to make me like you.”

To say that I was stunned at his demand was an understatement. Since I’d been with him he’d rarely shown any interest in the details of my life. He only knew of my basic strengths and had never asked me to elaborate on them. He knew nearly nothing of what it meant to be a vampire and now, suddenly, he wanted to become one?? There was not a chance in hell of that happening, not if I could do anything to prevent it.

“No,” I stated flatly.

His mouth dropped open in shock. Then slowly, his temper began to rise. He set his mouth in a firm, stubborn line, pulled his legs in close to the chair and rigidly straightened up his body. He clasped his hands together between his knees and began to slowly wring and flex his fingers. No doubt he wanted to wrap them around my neck at that very moment and squeeze. The feeling was mutual.

“Why not?” His brown eyes grew darker with his burgeoning anger.

“No,” I repeated. “And don’t ask me again.”

“That’s it? Just ‘no’, without any explanation whatsoever.”

I met his angry stare. “You don’t need to know the whys of it. Just know that I will never do it.”

“You arrogant bastard!” He shot up out of the chair, sending it crashing backwards onto the floor. He kicked the thing out of his way as he stared me down. “I’m a grown man, and you’re treating me like I’m a feeble-minded child! If it’s to be no, then at least have the damned courtesy to tell me why!”

I stood up and stepped back from the rocker, keeping my gaze locked on his face. “You have no idea what you’re asking, that’s why. You know absolutely nothing about what it means to live this life. You know nothing about me or my world, only what I’ve allowed you to know.”

“So tell me.”

“No. I won’t change you and that’s final. I never want to be responsible for bringing a human being into this life. I simply won’t do it. And throwing a temper tantrum will not change my mind.”

He evidently heard the truth in my words or saw the determination in my eyes, because he quickly calmed down and switched tactics. “So, you want me to leave with you and stay human, is that it?” He righted the chair and sank back down onto it, and I returned to the rocker. “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? It makes me feel like that cute baby calf that you get attached to even though your parents warn you not to. You name it, feed it by hand, play with it, watch it grow, and all the time you know it’s going to eventually end up on your dinner table. Is that what I am to you? Just something intriguing to play with until you decide to kill me?”

I glared at him. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer, except to say that if I desired you dead, you would already be so.”

“Will you just think about it?” he asked plaintively.

“No. There’s nothing to think about.” I was not going to change my mind on this issue. If Daniel thought he was stubborn, then he hadn’t seen real stubbornness until Michael Golland set his mind to something.

I watched passively as he clamped down on his temper once again. He succeeded, for the most part. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but also tight and controlled with barely contained anger. “Then let me give you something to think about. If I stay here in this town one of three things is going to happen: Samuel will eventually hit the right spot and I’ll die; Molly’s medicine won’t work on one of my injuries and I’ll die; or I’ll die from hanging because I refuse to pretend to be someone I’m not. And you can mark my words, I will not go anywhere with you if your intention is to keep me human and never change me. I’d rather stay here and die an early death than to be by your side as anything other than an equal. I simply refuse to do it. Do we understand one another?”

I nodded slowly. To speak would have been a mistake because it was struggle enough just to control my growing rage. I couldn’t believe the gall of the man! He was giving me an ultimatum using his life as a bargaining chip??! He was playing dirty, and he knew it. He knew I cared for him, although I’d never come right out and spoke it. He knew I would never allow him to stay here and die. The way he was manipulating me was infuriating!

The rest of our evening passed in total silence. Daniel stared into the fire while I sat in the rocker and pondered how to get myself out of this mess. What argument could I use to convince him that becoming a vampire was not his best choice? What could I do or say to make the man realize that this life was not what he imagined it to be? I had to find something and quickly, because there was no way I was going to sentence someone as dear to me as Daniel to an eternity with me in Hell.

 

* * *

  
The days that followed mirrored one another in nearly every detail: Daniel brooding in silence, going about his daily routine and completely ignoring my presence and me sitting in the rocker searching for something that would make him understand why I’d said no. Every evening we had the same argument: Daniel asking to be changed and my saying no; Daniel asking for a reason and my refusal to give him one; Daniel reminding me of his fate if he stayed and my barely contained fury at his continued manipulation of my emotions. Every night he slept alone with his back facing me in silent defiance, while I sulked in the rocker.

All talk of leaving and going to London had ceased. He and I were now at an impasse, both of us stubbornly digging in our heels. On the third night, we’d nearly come to blows when he’d announced he was going to the tavern. I’d threatened to forcibly hold him down if he even went near the door, and he’d threatened to take an axe to me if I so much as touched him. Before he’d even taken a step, I’d moved at vampire speed and appeared before him with my back leaned against the door, effectively blocking his exit. He’d known he couldn’t move me, not even to get the axe. He’d called me a string of vile names before retreating in defeat to his parents’ bedroom to sulk.

On the fifth and final day, everything came to a head. All the pent-up anger in both of us finally erupted.

“God damn you!! Tell me what I need to know!” Daniel was shouting, his face only inches from mine, his fists balled up tight with fury.

Someone needed a reminder that he was screaming at a vampire, a vampire who was very close to losing his temper. I growled softly, curling my lip up over my sharp teeth. “Back away from me… _now.”_

Daniel’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard, and then backed off a few steps. “I’m sorry, but God damn it all to hell, your stubbornness makes it difficult to keep one’s temper in check. All I’m asking is for you to tell me whatever it is that I need to know so I can make an informed decision. Is that too damned much to ask?!”

Suddenly a solution came to me out of the blue, a way to show even someone as thick-headed as Daniel why he shouldn’t desire the life of a vampire. This existence was nothing short of Hell on earth, and I was determined to make him see it, whatever it took. “What do I eat?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. I knew he was trying to figure out why I’d suddenly decided to discuss this after days upon days of outright refusal. “Answer me. What does my body have to have to live?” I asked again when he’d failed to respond.

“Blood.” His one-word answer was delivered in hushed tones, like he was afraid of someone overhearing him.

“That’s right. And where do I get this blood?”

He swallowed nervously. “From people.”

I smiled. “Right again. From people. I kill human beings in order to stay alive. Do you ever wonder how I accomplish that? Whom do I kill? How do I kill them? I imagine you think it all very sanitized and civil, but I assure you, it isn’t. You say I’m treating you like a feeble-minded child, so to remedy that I think you should watch me feed. Then you’d know whether you have the fortitude to be a vampire for the rest of eternity.”

“Are you suggesting I go to London with you the next time you…?”

“No, you’d only slow me down. I’ll bring my dinner _here_ , and you can watch—” I stopped, caught his gaze and held onto it ruthlessly. “—if you’re man enough, that is.”

I smiled inwardly at the raw fury in his eyes. I’d turned the tables on him. He now had a dilemma on his hands. Watching me feed was probably not something he cared to do, but he knew he couldn’t refuse without appearing weak. _Who is playing dirty now, Daniel?_

“Do it. Tonight,” he snarled.

I nodded and then smiled smugly. “I’ll return shortly.”

I left him with the self-satisfied knowledge that I’d won this war of wills. After watching me feed, there would be no way that Daniel would want me to change him. I was going to make sure of that.

* * *

  
The whores of Love Lane were common in every aspect: limp hair draped around plain faces, dead hollow eyes that had seen too much too soon and sallow skin hidden beneath the drab homespun cotton of their voluminous skirts. They reeked of desperation, and desperate people were rarely discriminating. It was ridiculously easy to tempt one of them away from her perch with the lure of a handful of coins. Another handful secured her services for the entire night. With her thin arms clutched tightly around my waist, we raced off on a stolen horse, away from London and toward Daniel.

Riding a horse with a vampire was not something any normal human would want to experience. The animal knew instinctively that what was perched on his back was an unnatural creature to be feared. The woman behind me seemed not a bit bothered by the horse’s wild skittishness. She apparently had enough alcohol in her body to make her think she was having fun. She shouted in my ear as we raced across the countryside, telling me things about herself that held no interest for me. The only detail that I bothered to take notice of was her name: Joan. I had thousands of names and faces of those I’d killed stored away in my memory. “Joan from London” was simply one more to add to the list.

We dismounted in front of Daniel’s cottage. I left the horse to its own devices and led the woman by the arm through the front door. Daniel was standing by the fireplace, poker in hand, when we entered. He eyed both of us silently, his expression unreadable. Joan swept her eyes over the room and smiled at him and at the warm coziness of her surroundings. I imagine it was quite different from what she was used to.

“Aaah, so it’s to be the three of us? That’s going to cost you a little more, my friend.” She grinned and then slid her eyes to Daniel, who visibly cringed at just the thought of her suggestion.

I tugged her face back in my direction with my fingers. “No. It’s just you and me. He’s going to watch, that is, if you don’t mind?”

She chuckled low in her throat. “So that’s the way of it?” She shrugged. “It makes no never mind to me. You’re the one with the money.”

I pulled her into my arms and we began our dance of death, a slow waltz of blood and pain mixed with pleasure that had been my entertainment of choice since Asha’s murder. Daniel was going to witness the long version, the way I killed when I had plenty of time to savor every delicious moment. By the end of this little tryst, I had no doubt that he’d thank me for not agreeing to change him.

As she fumbled with the fastenings of my breeches, and I slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress, I closed my eyes and started to drift away from the room. The civilized man that was Michael Golland began to gradually disappear as I let the demon inside of me take over.

We began our dance with deep kissing and touching. My hands slid inside her open bodice as hers glided along the length of my growing erection. Her breath tasted of cheap alcohol, but the demon in me was unconcerned with such minor annoyances. Instead, the sweet smell of her blood pulsing through her body dominated my thoughts, and fueled the building frenzy. All thoughts of Daniel and what he may be thinking left my mind. I became entirely focused on the woman in my embrace and the pleasure she would soon give me when she breathed her last breath.

I slowly pushed her in the direction of the bed as we continued to kiss. She’d managed to unbutton my shirt and pull it loose from my breeches. Her hands snaked underneath the linen, her nails scraped across my chest and stomach. If she noticed my cold skin, she gave no indication of it. Alcohol tended to make the horrible become tolerable and the unthinkable seem normal, which was why nearly all whores were drunks. She was going to die not knowing that a vampire had been her last lover.

I sat down on the edge of Daniel’s bed and pulled her down onto my lap. Between the two of us, we pushed the folds of her skirt high up her legs and toward her waist. I propped my head onto her shoulder and barely had time to lock eyes with Daniel before she guided me slowly inside of her. I closed my eyes and moaned as the blinding heat of her body closed tightly around my cock, but even with them closed, I couldn’t erase that image of Daniel standing by the fireplace glaring at me, his expression a mixture of revulsion and anger.

She made an off-color comment in my ear about my coldness, but that didn’t deter her from the job at hand. She rocked rhythmically on my lap with the help of my hands gripping her hips underneath her skirt. The pleasure began to slowly build. I touched my lips tenderly to that luscious blood-filled tunnel running down the side of her neck. Her vibrating pulse throbbed against my mouth and ignited a short fuse deep down inside of me. The pounding of her heartbeat reverberated inside of my head like a hammer repeatedly striking an anvil. Each blow pushed me closer and closer to the edge, until finally I stepped over that invisible line. Michael Golland was completely gone, replaced by a violent blood-thirsty vampire who cared nothing for his prey.

Her soft moans turned to cries of pain when I began to pound her body mercilessly. What a female vampire called good sex often killed a human woman, or at the very least, left her bleeding and screaming in agony by the time it was over. As my release grew close, I opened my eyes and stared at Daniel over her shoulder. The look on his face defied all manner of description. Horror. Revulsion. Disbelief. Rage. I saw so many different emotions in his eyes as he watched the hellish tableau playing out before him.

Just before the end, I stopped moving inside of her. Her cries of pain dwindled to pitiful whimpers, which I ignored. I was deep in the throes of pleasure, anticipating the thrill that was only moments away. I caught Daniel’s eyes from across the room, and while he watched, I slid my hands up to the woman’s neck, and jerked… _hard._ The dull snap of her spine was audible even to Daniel’s human ears. His entire body jerked in reaction to the sound, and he gasped aloud in shocked disbelief. But his eyes never left mine as I waited for her heart to stop. When it did, I tore into her neck. The blood spurted into my mouth at the same time I released inside of her now dead body. The pleasure was mind-numbingly intense as her blood slid down my throat like red velvet.

When I had drunk my fill, I pushed her body off my lap. It fell to the floor in a misshapen heap. Daniel watched in stunned silence as I stood and very calmly began to arrange my clothing into some semblance of order. I lazily swiped my tongue once across my mouth, stepped over her body and faced Daniel. I could tell his reaction wasn’t going to be good. He was red in the face, and his whole body was quivering with fury.

“What the hell was that?!!” Daniel screamed and threw the poker across the room. “Why did you make me watch that?!! You never said anything about fucking! You said you were feeding!!”

He balled his fists up and stormed toward me in a furious rage. I relaxed my body so that when he rammed into me he wouldn’t hurt himself. He only succeeded in knocking me backwards a few steps when he plowed both hands against my chest, and that was only because I allowed it. I took a few more steps back from him to put some distance between me and his temper.

“I was feeding. That’s how I do it when I have plenty of time. If I’m in a rush, I snap their necks right away and just forget about the sex.”

“This is what you do when you leave me to go to London?!” he asked in disbelief.

I nodded. “Now do you see why I don’t want to change you? This is what my life is like. This is what it’s been like for the past five hundred years. And to use your own words, do you think the world needs more people like me?”

He clutched his head with both hands, moaned and then raked his fingers viciously through his hair. “You told me you loved women! No one who loved women could do something as despicable as what you just did! I don’t care if she was a prostitute, she didn’t deserve what you just did to her!! You don’t love women, you hate them!!!”

“I’m a vampire, and she’s food,” I said, shrugging. “It was nothing personal.”

“And you think if you changed me, I’d be like you? You honestly think I’d do something like that?! Do all vampires kill this way??!”

Leave it to Daniel to ask the most important question, and the one I never wanted to have to answer, especially to him. In response, I kept quiet.

“Answer me, damn you!! DO ALL VAMPIRES KILL LIKE YOU DO??!”

“No,” I answered. “I’m what’s called an incubus. I prey on women.”

He raised his raging dark eyes to mine, and what I saw in them sent a shock wave of fear throughout my body. “Whatever you call it you’re still a sick son-of-a-bitch.” His voice was shaking with loathing and he eyed me curiously. “But there’s something else wrong with you, isn’t there?”

“Shut up,” I hissed, not liking the direction in which this conversation was moving.

Ignoring me, he continued. “You’re damaged inside.”

“Shut up!!”

“You’ve held me at arm’s length since the beginning. Have you ever loved anyone? Or are you even capable of love? More importantly, who in their right mind could even love someone like you?!”

“SHUT UP!!”

Without even thinking of the consequences, my temper snapped. I backhanded him. His body flew sideways against the wall. He crumpled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. I watched as he stubbornly pulled himself up to a standing position. When he turned to face me, my heart lurched at seeing the damage I’d done. One whole side of his face was splotched red, and soon would turn dark purple with bruises.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said quietly.

“No, I don’t,” he answered just as quietly. “And I don’t _want_ to. God, the thought of you touching me again turns my stomach. I want you to leave. Just go. Get out of my house and get out of my life. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Sharp stabs of emotional pain shot through my chest, raw wounds that would soon turn into the all-too-familiar ache of loss. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh yes I do. Get. Out.” He stabbed a finger in the direction of the door as he spat out the words.

“I just wanted to show you why I refused to change you. You had to see firsthand what the realities of this life were like,” I argued urgently. “That’s all I was doing.”

“Well, you succeeded! There’s no way I would even _think_ of spending an eternity with the likes of you. Now get out!!” he screamed.

“Daniel,” I pleaded, but his angry eyes never wavered, never softened—they were dark, hard and unforgiving. He turned his back to me. “Daniel.” I softly repeated his name, but he refused to turn around. I moved toward the woman, aiming to take her body out of the house with me, but Daniel whirled around and screamed at me.

"Don’t you touch her!! Don’t you even go near her! _GET OUT!!”_

I backed up until I was at the front door. I unlatched it and swung it open. The cold night air swirled in around my feet and stirred the draft in the fireplace. Daniel still kept his back to me and said nothing. I took one last look at the place that had begun to feel like home to me, one last look at the back of the man whom I’d grown to love without knowing why, a man who now despised me and loathed even the sight of my face.

I stepped out into the night and started walking. To where, I had no clue. I was suddenly back where I’d started: alone and with nowhere to go.


	7. Reconciliation and Opportunity

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

I started walking—putting one foot in front of the other without any destination in mind, and without any concern for the passage of time. I simply walked until I decided to stop walking, even though there was no reason to stop. But, then again, there was no reason to go _on_ either. There was no reason for anything.

I sat down on a boulder in the middle of the woods, wrapped in a blanket of darkness without knowing or caring where I was. My gaze settled on the ground at my feet and stayed there. With nothing but the soft rustlings of night animals and the wind whispering through the trees, I began to think.

My mind gradually retreated to the past and left my discarded body behind like a snake shedding its dead and useless skin. I thought of Libby and my parents, all long gone, but as alive in mind as if they were sitting beside me on that stone. Cold drops of rain splattered on the ground at my feet as I grieved the lost opportunity for love and family. Children and grandchildren, laughing and playing and scampering about the house, a normal life that I could have had, but had thrown away without a moment’s thought.

The sun rose and set, rose and set, moving time forward while I stayed behind in the past. Ice pellets stung my skin, like the sharp pricks of a thousand needles, but the pain of them paled in comparison to the memories of Asha. I relived our meeting and the first time our lips met, the feel of her body, her scent, her voice, her laughter. Our wedding. The first time we made love. The feel of her hair in my hands. The warm comfort of being loved by her. The murder. The loss. The devastating grief that followed.

I thought of Rhodes. Another opportunity lost. I deeply regretted having turned my back on the only other person who had loved me. I could only imagine what my life would have been like if I’d given Rhodes a chance to help me heal. My brief contact with her through the last five hundred years had been strained and awkward. She was lost to me now. She hated the man I’d become. She wasn’t the only one.

And the one person I’d tried to avoid thinking about finally pushed his way into my thoughts, much like he’d pushed his way into my life. Daniel. Yet another opportunity lost. There was no better man once you got beneath the swagger and the fiery temper. He was the kind of man who’d stick by you through the good and the bad. He was stubborn, willful and impulsive, but also strong, courageous and dependable, a good man to have at your back.

And much to my continued confusion and dismay, he was also a good man to have in your _bed_ —gentle at times, rough at others, but always passionate. Neither my heart nor my body had been so tenderly held, not since Asha. I regretted the time wasted on trying to understand my feelings for him, when I should have just accepted his attentions without question. But what I regretted the most was hurting him. He’d done nothing to deserve the pain I had inflicted upon him in my stupid attempt to dissuade him from choosing this life. That one act was unforgivable.

Soft flakes of snow swirled in the air around me as my thoughts finally drifted away from Daniel and landed on Aro, the man responsible for my wife’s death, the man who had taken my reason for living from this earth, a man who was beyond my reach, leaving my thirst for vengeance forever unsatisfied, a man I loathed more than anyone or anything on this planet. But he was a man who could give me what I now craved more than blood, sex or even love. Aro could give me death, a _slow_ death, one fit for a creature such as myself who had mercilessly killed thousands of innocent humans in the name of revenge.

If there was ever to be found one good thing about the cursed power I’d been given, it was that it had the potential to kill me. If I turned myself over to Aro, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. Out of sheer curiosity and his constant lust for power and domination, he’d force me to use my gift. And by doing so, he would unknowingly set me on the long and meandering path to insanity. At the end of that path death would seem pleasant in comparison to life.

“Michael? What in the hell are you doing?”

The unexpected sound of a human voice startled me, ripping me out of my reverie against my will. Directly in my line of vision was a pair of worn leather boots standing ankle-deep in snow. I knew those boots and that voice. Daniel. I looked up to see him looming over me with both hands planted on his hips, surprise and confusion written on his face. It registered vaguely in my mind that he’d asked me a question, but I was slow to respond. My return to the present was a reluctant one since I had no desire to slither back into my dead and useless body.

“What are you doing?!” he repeated.

“Thinking.” My voice sounded weak and raspy, like I’d not used it for centuries.

He squatted down in the snow and stared up at me with his dark, unfathomable eyes. I suddenly realized that I’d never truly appreciated their beauty. I missed that all-over tingle I got when they lingered too long on my body or my mouth.

“Have you been here since you left my house?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure. I sifted through my memories and realized that I had indeed been here since he’d thrown me out. So, I nodded and added softly, “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

He shook his head in disbelief and frowned. “My God, that was three weeks ago.”

Only three weeks? I was surprised. It had felt like I’d sat on this rock my entire life. He reached over and brushed snow off of my legs and arms. He stood and wiped it off of my shoulders. I sat impassively and let him do whatever he wanted. None of it mattered. I was eerily detached. His hands were touching an empty shell, because the important part of me—whatever part it was that made a man want to keep on living—was gone.

“Your hair is frozen.” He cursed softly under his breath as he continued to swipe at my clothes with his gloved hands. “Come on. You’re coming back to the house with me.” He grabbed my hand and tugged. I allowed him to pull me to a standing position and waited for further instructions.

He leaned closer to brush snow from my collar and straighten my stiff clothes, and that was when his scent hit me full in the face. At that moment, the cold of winter and the snow clinging to my body meant nothing. My thirst flared to life and burned through me like the heat of a forest fire in the dead of summer. I let out a painful gasp and stumbled back away from him. “Don’t come near me!”

It didn’t take long for him to figure out the cause of my distress. “You haven’t fed, have you?”

“Stay away from me!” I shouted when it appeared he was going to move closer.

“Michael, it’s all right.” He held out his hands in front of him in supplication. “I killed a deer. It’s lying just over the rise. It’s yours. Take it, if it will help.” He backed slowly away from me and moved far off to the side, waiting for my decision.

I’d never drunk the blood of an animal. I had no idea what it tasted like, or if it would even slake my thirst, but at this point I had no choice. It was either take his offer or take his life. The moment I made up my mind, I found myself standing over the dead animal. Blood leaked from a hole just below the deer’s eye, and although I heard the swishing sound of Daniel’s boots moving through the snow behind me, I dropped to the ground and sank my teeth into the coarse hair on the deer’s neck. I knew that he was hovering over me, watching me drain the carcass until it was dry, but I didn’t care. I was half-starved with thirst and this was the only way to eliminate it. If I were in his shoes, I’d be wondering which one was the animal.

When I was full, I pulled away and immediately gagged a large splatter of red onto the pristine white snow. The aftertaste was vile. It lacked the velvety richness of human blood and was flat and wild-tasting, but at least the burn in my throat was gone, along with the overwhelming desire to kill the man standing over me.

A chuckle from behind. “That’s exactly the way I feel about tripe soup.” He walked around me and grabbed the deer by one antler, dragging it behind him in the snow. “Come on. The sky looks bad. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re up to our arse in snow by morning.”

He walked off a few feet and then turned to see if I was following. He motioned me to come with a jerk of his head. I rose to my feet and obeyed, trailing behind the limp carcass of the deer as it plowed a shallow furrow in the snow behind him.

We walked quite a distance before arriving at the cottage. Smoke was curling lazily from the chimney. The windows were glowing with the soft light of the candles within. I watched silently as Daniel dressed the deer. With knife in hand, he quickly and expertly cut it, removed the organs and hung it to drain. He scratched his head for a moment and then chuckled under his breath.

“You’re quite a handy fellow to have around. There’s no blood left to drain.” His humorous view of the whole situation irritated me. Watching a man suck at a dead carcass like he was a starving street urchin couldn’t have been pleasant. Yet here he was making light of something that any normal human would have found stomach-churning. Was there nothing I could do that would disgust him?

He led me inside and stood me by the fire while he disappeared from the room. I stared into the yellow-orange flames and became mesmerized by their flickering dance. He returned sometime later with an armful of towels and a quilt. He began to remove my soaking wet clothes. Button by button he worked his way down my chest. A quick yank at my ties and my breeches fell to the floor. Everything ended up laid out flat on the rock hearth to dry. Then he toweled the moisture from every part of my body. Every crevice I possessed was tenderly patted and rubbed with the soft cloth. I stood inert and silent and let him do his work. Only my eyes moved as they followed the path of his hands. When he stood up from drying my feet, we were standing face-to-face looking at each other.

“What happened to your face?” I asked.

“You knocked the hell out of me, remember?” he answered as he began towel drying my hair.

Annoyed by his calm attitude, I roughly pushed his hands away from me. “I didn’t put those cuts all over you. What happened?”

His dark eyes went flat, along with his voice. “I was angry and went looking for something to hit. Samuel’s face got in the way of my fist. And before you start growling at me, there were no knives involved. We just hit and kicked the shite out of each other until some people pulled us apart. I’m fine.”

Was there no end to the man’s impulsive self-destructive stupidity? Frustrated, I went quiet and stared at the floor as he fluffed my hair and tried to smooth it back into place. Then he wrapped the quilt around my body and swaddled me like an overgrown babe.

“I’m not cold.”

“I know that,” he said softly. “But you like warmth.”

Then he tried to guide me to the rocker. “I don’t need to sit,” I added stubbornly.

He sighed at my defiance and backed away from me in defeat. He leaned his back against the mantle and fixed those penetrating eyes on my face. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

I opened my mouth to say ‘yes’ and instead what came out was: “Her name was Mariasha.”

His whole body tensed; his eyes narrowed as he pulled away from the fireplace and approached me. “Who?”

“You asked who in their right mind would love someone like me, and I just told you. Mariasha. She was my wife, the other half of my heart.”

“You were married?” The surprise in his voice was unmistakable; I had finally shocked him.

“Yes.” Then I told him everything, beginning with my human life and Libby. His eyes never left my face as I talked. I took him through my first meeting with Asha, to my decision to leave with her, and finally to our wedding in the shadows of the Great Pyramids. He listened attentively as I told him of Rhodes, dear friend to both of us and our constant companion. His eyes darkened to an angry black when I spoke of Asha’s murder and described it just as I’d witnessed it. They softened in sympathy as I attempted to describe the endless days of grief at Rhodes’ house, and of my painful decision to leave her, despite her love for me.

Then I told him of the Volturi and Aro. I held nothing back. Every dark secret that should never be known to an ordinary human, I told him. I described each member of the guard and their power. I tried, but failed, to convey the overpowering pain of being tortured by Jane. I let him know the danger he was in and that I was constantly being tracked and watched. Aro most likely knew by now that I had taken up residence with a human. But as was normal for Daniel, he seemed unaffected by my insistence that his life was at risk.

I revealed to him my two gifts. One he had witnessed during the episode outside the tavern with Samuel: the ability to manipulate thoughts. I could chop off a man’s arm and make him believe it didn’t hurt, as long as I had access to his eyes. The other? Daniel was truly stunned when I described it to him. He took a step back from me in shock.

“My God. You can do that?” When I nodded, he swallowed hard. “Promise me you’ll never use that on me.”

Just the thought of such a thing horrified me. “I would never use it on someone I loved. It would be a fate worse than death. But you must understand, it is because of this gift that Aro constantly watches me. He wants more than anything to add me to his collection of intriguing vampires with unusual powers. I made a grievous mistake in confronting him after Asha’s death.”

And since I was busy confessing, and Daniel seemed to be numb to the shock of my revelations, I decided to leave nothing out. I told him of the atrocities I had committed since Asha’s death, of the murderous rampages that had continued without pause until the night I’d met him in the tavern. His eyes widened when I revealed the exact number of humans I’d killed in cold blood. Many because I’d been thirsty, but the great majority had been just for sport. And finally, there was only one thing left for me to confess:

“I want this to be over,” I finished softly.

His eyes snapped to attention. “You want what to be over?”

“My life, Daniel. I want to end it. My existence on this earth serves no purpose. I’m going to turn myself over to Aro and be done with it.”

It was then that I saw an emotion sweep over Daniel’s face that I had never seen in him before: panicked fear. “Like hell you are!” he snapped. His voice began to shake as he continued. “You can just forget that right now! You are _not_ going to commit suicide! You can’t! I won’t allow it!” He took my face in both of his hands. His thumbs caressed my cheeks while his panicked eyes sought out mine. “I love you, Michael.”

The room went silent except for the crackling of the wood in the fireplace. I stared back at this man in stunned disbelief, wondering what had happened to his sanity. “That’s ridiculous!,” I snapped. “How can you say something like that, especially after what I put you through?? You saw me. I’m a monster, a cruel and heartless killer with no conscience! You don’t love me! You’re deluding yourself!!”

He grabbed two handfuls of the quilt in his fists when I attempted to back away from him. I couldn’t break free of his grasp without dragging him back with me and possibly hurting him in the process. “You listen to me!” His jaw was clenched tight, but whether it was from anger or fear, I couldn’t tell. “I’m not delusional. I know what I feel, and I’m telling you that I love you. And I know you don’t feel the same way about me, but that’s all right. I just wanted you to know the truth. The last three weeks have been nothing short of hell for me. I didn’t know where you were or how to even go about finding you. But now that you’re back here with me, there’s no way in hell you’re going to do something as stupid as trying to end your life!”

“What I did to you was unforgivable."

“Oh believe me, I agree with you. If it’ll make you feel better, I will tell you that I despised you for one whole day. I cursed your name, your family’s name, your mother and father and anyone else who may have been responsible for your presence on this earth. But then, I started to think about what I’d witnessed. I really thought about it, Michael. It was important for me to understand what it was that had angered me so, because you see, I wasn’t really sure.”

“I shouldn’t have had sex with her in front of you,” I offered as an explanation. “I should have realized that would offend you.”

“You’re wrong. It wasn’t that at all.” His eyes softened and some of the abject fear of before seemed to be receding from them. “You’ve always told me you preferred women. That wasn’t the issue. Oh sure, I was shocked, because you didn’t say anything about sex. I had no idea the two even went together, but that wasn’t what upset me. What upset me was the cold detachment I saw in your eyes and your entire demeanor while you were doing it. You may as well have been holding a sack of grain on your lap. You used her brutally, even though she cried out in pain. That wasn’t the Michael I had come to know, and it turned my stomach. After watching you, I began to wonder if you had the capacity to truly love anyone. I couldn’t understand how you could be so kind and loving to me one moment, and then a few hours later you could kill someone like that with absolutely no emotion.”

“I disconnect myself from reality. That’s the only way I can feed. You have to know that I hate what I am. I hate the man that I’ve turned into, and you shouldn’t care for me. You should marry Molly and have a normal life with children and grandchildren at your knee.”

“We’ve already had that discussion. I don’t want Molly. I want to be with _you._ No one else. And after everything you just told me about your life, I can now understand why you are the way you are. Grief, anger, bitterness, loneliness, they have all eaten away at your soul until there’s almost no goodness left in you. I can understand that to a degree. I’ve lived it, although my life hasn’t been nearly as tragic as yours. But still I can understand how easy it could be to let your life spiral out of control simply because of one life-changing event. But you can’t give into it, Michael. You have to find a purpose, a reason to go on and put it behind you.”

“That’s the problem. There isn’t one,” I replied dully.

“Yes there is!!” he insisted hotly. “Me!” He jabbed his finger into his chest as he spoke. “I’m as good a reason as any for you to stick around. Change me. Make me like you and let me help you fix what’s wrong with your life. I promise you, I’ll stay by your side as long as you want me. You’ll never be alone again. I’ll be your friend, your companion, and your lover when you desire it. You will have my complete loyalty until one or the other of us no longer lives. Please, just do this for me. I don’t have any future here, and with you I could build one. Besides, according to what you just told me, you don’t have much of a choice, do you? If you don’t change me, this Aro person will kill me because I know all about the vampire world.”

“Daniel…” I started to present an argument against such a move, but then realized that there wasn’t one. He was right. I had no choice but to make him a vampire or have him be killed by the Volturi.

He interrupted me and pulled me close up against him, forcing me to look into his eyes. “There’s goodness in you. I know it. I’ve felt it when you touch me, when you kiss me, when we’re in bed together. You’ve protected me and saved my life twice. You care about me, I can feel it every moment that we’re together. You just have to open your heart and let me in. No more of this keeping me at arm’s length.” His mouth moved hesitantly towards mine. When I didn’t back away, he touched his lips to mine and kissed me very softly. “Let me in, Michael. Please.”

Every bit of resistance left inside of me crumbled. I knew I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, let alone the love he’d professed to feel for me, but how could I refuse such a heartfelt plea? I’d refused love from Rhodes and it had been the biggest mistake of my life. Something told me that I would never get such a chance again if I let Daniel slip through my fingers.

I shrugged the quilt off of my shoulders and wrapped my arms around him. He did the same to me, and we stood this way, hugging each other fiercely in silence, for a very long time. His fingers dug into the hard skin of my back, and I felt his hot tears running onto my bare shoulders. I murmured soft apologies in his ear, for everything I’d done to hurt him. He offered his to me, for the cruel things he’d said just before he’d thrown me out. I expressed my deepest regrets for striking him and leaving bruises on his face, and he whispered his love for me over and over again as he trembled in my arms.

That was when I opened my heart to him and let him in, not a small fissure but a wide open chasm as vast as the sky. I let him in and made a place for him beside of Asha and Rhodes. This man was now a part of me and a part of my life forever.

I pried him gently away from me and stroked his face, his hair, and his shoulders. “I will change you. I want you by my side. I want everything that you’ve offered me: your friendship, companionship and your love.”

He sagged against me in relief. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Will you do it tonight?”

I brushed the wetness from his face and smiled at his naiveté. “No, Daniel. There is much more you need to know before that happens. Plus, we don’t have enough privacy here. It would be best to wait until after we leave.” I hesitated, realizing that I’d assumed something that maybe I shouldn’t have. “We _are_ still leaving, aren’t we?”

“God yes and I can hardly wait.”

Neither could I, but there was still some unfinished business left in this town, both for me and for Daniel.

“Do you want me to get you something of mine to put on while you wait for your clothes to dry?”

It was time for me to let Daniel know exactly how I felt about him. I smiled and shook my head. “No,” I said, my voice suddenly husky with need at the thought of what the rest of our evening held in store. My fingers snaked through his short hair and I pulled him against me. He opened his mouth to speak, but I silenced him with a kiss—a long, hard and deep kiss that could have went on forever if he hadn’t pulled away from me to gasp for air. I gave him time to get a quick lungful and then latched onto his lips again, this time probing his mouth with my tongue. I hadn’t even begun to enjoy myself, before he pulled away from me.

“Damn,” he swore softly, his breaths coming in short ragged gasps for air. “You _have_ been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

In answer, I grasped the collar of his woolen shirt and ripped downward until it was hanging open in two torn halves. I roughly pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and arms and dropped it onto the floor. A low ragged moan escaped his throat as my hand moved lower down. I gripped the waistband of his breeches in my fist before he grabbed my wrist and stopped me with a breathless laugh.

“Woah. I’ll take it from here. Wouldn’t want anything important getting ripped off by mistake.”

I smiled back at him, and nodded my head in agreement.

What followed was a very long night of slow, sensual lovemaking, the likes of which I hadn’t engaged in since my first night with Asha. The joining of our bodies was about so much more than just sex. I recognized it for what it truly was, having experienced it before on my honeymoon. Daniel and I were committing ourselves to one another, moving past the spoken word and toward a deeper level of emotion. We took our time and lingered over each other as if we had just this night met. Our hands roamed free and our mouths followed in their wake. Our releases, occurring one right after the other, were long and intense, our muscles rippling with tension under each other’s hands, our bodies shuddering with pleasure until we were finally spent.

Conversation lagged after that. Daniel was physically tired, and both of us were emotionally drained from the events of the past weeks. After a brief but harmless argument over whether to place a blanket between us so he wouldn’t catch a chill, I ended up lying behind him and spooning his warm body back against mine, with the promise that I’d move away when he started to shiver. He fell asleep long before that happened. I spent the night lightly running my fingers across his hot skin and thanking the fates for placing this man in my path.

* * *

  
The snowfall Daniel had predicted arrived in the night and continued well into the next morning. The world shrank in unto itself until it included only Daniel and me and our small cottage. We spent the next two days in bed, with Daniel only leaving my side to eat and use the privy. We lay side-by-side, bodies touching from shoulder to ankle and talked about everything. He asked questions; I answered without hesitation. He told the most absurd stories that made me laugh despite my insistence that they were completely fabricated, and his insistence that they were absolutely true.

On the second night, Daniel brought up a very awkward subject out of nowhere. He asked me to describe what it was like to lay with a woman. I admitted to being surprised at his curiosity, but he laughed it off as a case of simply wondering what he was missing. I prayed that Asha would forgive me as I described it for him in great detail. If he was to know such things, I wanted it to be from the perspective of a man and a woman deeply in love, just like Asha and I had been. He listened raptly, and not once did I see a hint of the disgust that usually showed on his face at the mention of such things. When I finished, he sighed and ran a finger lightly up the length of my fully aroused cock.

“This is for her, isn’t it? You still want her after all this time.”

I nodded and apologized for something that was completely out of my control. Thoughts of Asha often had that effect on my body, despite my wish that it weren’t so.

“Michael, I want you to understand something, and I think we need to talk about this now instead of later.”

I frowned, not having any idea what he was getting at, so I waited for him to explain.

“I want you to know that I will never stand in your way if you wish to make love to a woman.”

My eyebrows had to have shot up over the top of my head, so much was my surprise at his statement. “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“You just let me worry about what’s fair to me,” he insisted. “But I mean it. I know you like women and I would never deny you that pleasure. I can share you with a woman, as long as you are discreet about it and don’t fuck her in front of me.” Then he grinned. “Oh, and you might want to close your mouth before a bug crawls in it and decides to set up housekeeping.”

I hadn’t realized my mouth had dropped open, but I immediately snapped it shut. “Are you serious??” I asked incredulously.

“Yes I am. But there are two conditions I must insist upon.” The amusement disappeared from his face as quickly as it had come. He was deadly serious now. “First, the sex while feeding has to stop. That defiles _you_ as much as it does the woman, and by extension it defiles me—your lover— as well. And second, don’t ever take another man to your bed or it’s over between us. There is only one man for you, and that’s me. Do we understand each other?”

I understood completely and told him so. Satisfied with my response, he deftly switched our conversation to an entirely different subject. I studied him while he chattered on and once again wondered if I would ever fully understand this intriguing man who had butted his way into my life and stolen my heart.

 

* * *

  
On the third day, we mutually decided it was time for us to emerge from our cocoon and set the wheels in motion that would clear the way for us to leave. Daniel had legal issues to deal with regarding the deed to his property that required a trip into town to see the barrister. I, on the other hand, had business of a more delicate nature to mull over: specifically, how to murder four men without any suspicion falling upon Daniel’s shoulders.

He got up before me, dressed, made a trip outside to the privy, and then went into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. I finally had to force myself to crawl out of the bed. I’d much rather have stayed beneath the blankets, luxuriating in the warmth his body had left behind on the sheets. I got dressed and took care of banking the fire and gathering in wood. When he returned after eating his breakfast, I was waiting for him by the door with coat, boots and gloves in hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he began to stuff knives into various hiding places within the folds of his clothing.

“With _you_.” He glanced over at the windows, searching for the sun. “It’s overcast. I've already checked.”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to go with me. Just stay here and warm yourself by the fire.” He grabbed his coat from the peg beside me.

“I’m going with you,” I insisted quietly.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going anyway.”

He sighed in exasperation. “Michael, for God’s sake, please stop with the mothering!” He yanked on his boots and then reached for the knob. I stretched out one arm and laid it across the width of the door. Try as he might, he couldn’t budge it. “God damn you to hell, Michael Golland!!” He spun away from me and stalked halfway across the room. With his back to me, I observed him trying to gain control of his temper, his fists clenching and unclenching. He whirled back around and glared at me. “I’m going to be honest with you. I can’t deal with this. These control issues you have regarding my safety are intolerable!”

“Can you try to see it from my point of view?” I asked, dropping my arm to my side. I crossed the room until I was standing in front of him. “You asked me to let you into my heart, and I did, mostly because I wanted to, but also because it was what you needed from me. What you don’t understand is that what I need is to be able to protect you. I have an obligation, being the stronger of the two of us, to ensure your safety, especially now since I’ve agreed to change you. I’d much rather that take place when you’re strong and healthy instead of on your deathbed. I’m asking you, Daniel, to please let go of your pride and let me take care of you.”

He raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation, before heaving a deep sigh. “Fine. Suit yourself. You can follow my arse around all day if that’s what you really want to do.”

I smiled. “It will be my immense pleasure to do so, since your arse looks most appealing in those breeches you’re wearing.”

His mouth dropped open in surprise at my flirtatious remark, and then he smiled mischievously. “Are you saying that I have a nice arse??”

“I believe the word I used was ‘appealing’,” I answered with a grin.

He glanced toward the bed, and then shot one eyebrow up suggestively. “We have time.” The arrogant smirk was back, and I loved him all the more for it.

“But we’ll have more time tonight,” I countered.

He raked his teeth against his bottom lip and grinned. “Tonight it is, then.”

We headed out the door, me trailing behind him as was our habit. Neither one of us was looking forward to slogging through the snow for most of the day, when we could have just stayed in bed and watched the fire burn. But both of us knew that the sooner we got our business settled, the sooner we could leave, and the sooner Daniel could begin his new life.

* * *

 

The narrow, snow-covered streets were mostly deserted. Only the bravest of souls, or the drunkest of them, had even dared to venture out. I had put forth a very convincing argument that the bad weather actually worked in our favor. Daniel was sure to be granted an appointment with the barrister, since many had probably already canceled. It turned out that I’d been correct. The barrister agreed to see Daniel immediately. I was offered the opportunity to join him, but I elected instead to go back outside and take up my post near the front entrance. Just before he left the room, Daniel shot me a puzzled look that let me know he thought my decision to be completely insane, but I had a very good reason to want fresh air.

I leaned my back up against the clapboard and pretended to be a shivering cold human too lacking in common sense to stay home beside the fire. Boredom soon set in as the monotonous white landscape failed to offer up any interesting diversions. To stave it off, I began to consider the various ways I could kill Samuel and his friends while still protecting Daniel’s neck.

The ideal method—and certainly the one that would give me the most pleasure—involved lots of ripping of limbs and blood splattering the walls. Screams of terror, begging, crying—so much the better. Unfortunately, that kind of killing would be too noticeable, both to the locals _and_ to the Volturi. So it had to be a quiet series of murders that would go undetected long enough to give Daniel and me time to escape. When the bodies were discovered, I wanted us to be far away from here, two anonymous faces lost in a sea of thousands in some major city in Europe. Most likely we’d stay in London for a night or two and then move on to somewhere else until things settled down.

From there I moved on to technique. Exactly how should the killing to be done? Samuel’s three friends were of no great concern. They could be dispensed with fairly easily. It was Samuel’s death that was going to require the most planning. The man was not going to die quick. Therefore, I required an isolated area where I could be afforded the extra time needed to prolong his death without fear of detection. There was only one place that came to mind: the deserted barn. And what more fitting place for Samuel to lose his life than the very place he’d committed his crime upon Daniel’s body eight years ago. The only hitch in my plan was how to get him isolated from his family and friends without him becoming suspicious. Ripping him from his bed and toting him over my shoulder through the woods would work, but carried with it the risk of detection. Separating him from his three cohorts at the tavern would be nearly an impossible task.

It was at that very moment that fate intervened on my behalf. A lone figure wove its way through the snow across the narrow street, not ten yards from where I was standing. A strong gust of bitter wind blew the covering from the figure’s head to reveal a familiar tousle of blonde hair. Samuel. He must have felt my piercing gaze upon him, because he turned his eyes in my direction. He slowed his pace as he stared at me. To this day, I will never understand what possessed me to do what I did next. I smiled at him. Not an arrogant smirk like Daniel’s, or an evil grin meant to instill fear. It was a simple warm smile. Shock registered on his face as he continued to stare. And then…he also did the unbelievable. He smiled back in kind. Then he dipped his head shyly, tucked his chin into his chest, and continued on down the lonely street to where ever he was bound.

After his figure disappeared from my view, a strange and disturbing feeling crept into my body and my mind. Two months ago, I would have never given something like what had just happened a moment’s thought. I would have dismissed it as just a polite greeting between two gentlemen encountering each other on the street. But ever since Daniel had come into my life, he’d awakened emotions in me that had previously lain dormant, and along with those emotions came a new set of social signals that I’d only observed between men and women. I now knew those same signals existed between men as well.

Samuel was attracted to me. I had no idea how I knew that, but I did. Some unspoken signal had traveled through the frigid air that had separated us, a sexual signal that I now recognized, thanks to Daniel. Instead of being repulsed by the thought, I was euphoric, for Samuel had just unwittingly provided me with the knowledge I needed to flawlessly plan and execute his death.

“It’s cold as a witches’ teat out here and you’re smiling your arse off! What in God’s name could you possibly find so amusing?” Daniel had finished his business and was now grumbling and shivering by my side, staring at me like I’d grown another head.

“Just thinking about tonight,” I lied.

“Oh! Well, I can see where thinking about my cock would inspire happy thoughts,” he acknowledged with an arrogant laugh.

“You’re incorrigible,” I snorted, but laughed along with him.

“I’m hungry, and I’m freezing my bollocks off. Let’s go by the tavern and then head home,” he suggested, pulling the collar of his coat up around his ears. “By the way, you could have gone inside with me. I didn’t mind. As far as I’m concerned, my business is your business now.”

“I had a very good reason not to.” I glanced his way and grinned. “Your barrister has a very enticing scent. I thought he would better serve us alive rather than dead.”

He frowned at me as we ventured out into the street. “I guess I’d have to be a vampire to understand how that fat cow of a man could be considered enticing, huh?”

“Yes, but that’s one thing you’ll learn very quickly. When you’re thirsty, superficial things such as beauty won’t matter to you at all. The only thing that will matter will be the taste of blood in your mouth.”

He digested that bit of information in silence as we worked our way through the snow to the tavern. Molly joined us for lunch since the foul weather had emptied the streets of people and the tavern of customers. We passed a very pleasant afternoon with warm conversation and camaraderie, despite the chilling cold outside.

Four days ago I’d been ready to end my life. Now, Daniel and I were back together and things were looking very promising for us. It was my hope that within the next week, or two at the latest, we would be gone from this place and Samuel and his friends would be dead.

It was important to me that Daniel be free to start his new life without the stain of hatred and revenge coloring the rest of his existence. I was living proof of what happened when you let those kinds of emotions rule your life. I was determined that Daniel’s life was not going to turn into a mirror image of mine. He was going to have his justice, but I was not going to allow him to do the actual killing. That was going to be my gift to him: a new start without the guilt of four men’s murders on his conscience.

After all, for a man who had murdered thousands, what was four more? It was nothing.


	8. Goodbyes

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

The next several days were spent inside the cottage as Daniel began the process of saying goodbye to his human life. We spent hours upon hours in his parents’ bedroom going through their belongings and deciding what should stay and what should go with us. A task that should have taken only a day or so turned into a nearly week-long ordeal because some stray item pulled from a drawer would trigger a memory and he’d have to stop and tell me everything about it.

I kept silent and listened patiently to his stories. Some were humorous and brought a smile to both of our faces, like the time he’d snatched a bed sheet from the clothesline so that he and Molly could have a tent of their own in the woods. And even though it had been Molly’s idea, he’d bravely taken a thrashing for the crime, and had decided from there on out to use leafy tree branches instead.

Or the time he was supposed to have been watching over the boiling kettle of laundry outside, and had instead gotten distracted with drawing a mother goose and her babies waddling across the grass. The laundry had boiled over, spilling the clothes onto the muddy ground, which had meant his mother had had to clean them twice. Another thrashing while bent over the fence rail with his breeches pooled down around his feet had given him plenty of time to think about responsibility and the importance of trust.

The lone crucifix over the mantle brought back his memories of church, and the times he’d been forced to sit quietly and listen to hours of sermons about the perils of sin and the fate that awaited those who ignored God’s commandments—a major task for an energetic boy such as he’d been. He’d received many a thrashing after church services for squirming or falling asleep. But on those rare days that he’d paid attention, especially as he’d gotten older, he’d begun to slowly realize that he was one of those sinners the Father talked about constantly: a man who lusted after the flesh of other men, which was an abomination in the eyes of God, a person who would never stand in His presence because of that lust, a soul who would burn in hell for eternity for his perverted desires because they offended God. It had been at that point that he’d refused to go back, which had caused heated arguments between he and his father, but without result. The rebellious and stubborn Daniel had won out, and he’d never set foot in a church again.

He’d tried on his own to live his life correctly and according to God’s laws, but had found that he couldn’t change the way he felt about men, and for that he knew he was damned. But despite all, he confided to me that he still believed in God and Heaven, and prayed often that God would understand his faults and not hold them against him when death finally came for him. I murmured words of assurance to him while wisely keeping my own lack of faith to myself. Heaven and the afterlife were all utter nonsense as far as I was concerned, but Daniel’s beliefs were his to keep or discard, not mine.

The unfinished wood carving on the bedside table summoned yet another painful memory from his childhood. His father had disapproved of Daniel’s drawing, and had instead pushed him toward the more ‘appropriate’ hobby of whittling. He’d refused to learn, instead staring off into the distance and daydreaming while his father had attempted to teach him. Finally, in a moment of angry frustration, his father had stalked around the bedroom, yanking his drawings from the walls, and had thrown them into the fire, along with his box of charcoals. He’d cried and begged his father not to do it, but to no avail. His mother and father had had a vicious argument about him that night, and not just about his drawing, but about the other thing, too. He’d sat huddled in a dark corner with tears streaming down his face as he’d listened to them yell at each other.

He’d gotten the tiny knife and a small piece of wood and had attempted to make something while the fight had raged on in the other room. All he’d succeeded in doing had been to slice open his palm when the knife he’d clutched in his shaking hand had slipped off of the wood. In the end, his mother had won the argument, and the lost charcoals had eventually been replaced along with fresh paper. His father had never again tried to teach him to whittle. In fact, Daniel admitted with tears pooling in his eyes, his relationship with his father had never been the same after that.

“What you must think of me, crying like an overgrown babe.” Daniel swiped at his eyes and turned his face from me in shame.

“I think you’re a very brave man. What you’re doing is most courageous, and something I was too cowardly to do. I just walked away from my life and never looked back. I never said any goodbyes. I never faced my failings. I didn’t want to hear anyone tell me that what I was doing was selfish and wrong. You’re facing up to your past and saying your proper goodbyes to your human life, as you should. You’re doing the right thing by getting it all out, and settling things once and for all in your mind. You’ll never have another chance to do this. I can’t go back and change the way I left. If I could I would do it all so very differently, believe me.”

“I need to say goodbye to Molly and that’s going to be the worst part. She’s been the only friend I’ve ever had. She’s been there for me from the very beginning and stayed even after she realized there could never be anything more than friendship between us. I’m dreading it, but it has to be done, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. Daniel was a good man and was going about this leaving in the right way, even though it was proving to be a painful ordeal for him. But I planned on being there for him every step of the way, listening to his memories and supporting him if the guilt of it all began to weigh too heavily upon him.

“Are you having any second thoughts about this? It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.” And even though it would hurt me beyond belief to leave this place without him, I’d do it if it was what he truly wanted. But he assured me he wasn’t having second thoughts, only dreading the final goodbye, which I fully understood.

After all the hours of going through belongings, he finally decided that the only things he wanted to take with him were his drawings of his parents, Molly and me—everything else was to be left behind. Well, I didn’t agree with that, so we had a rather lengthy argument over that one point.

We ended up sifting through his artwork, piece by piece, trying to decide what to take. I wanted him to take _all_ of his drawings, to which he pointed out that pictures of cows eating grass, or some random tree were meaningless and it would be stupid to try and make room for them in a saddlebag. I countered with my argument that _any_ drawing of his had meaning, or else he wouldn’t have drawn the damned thing in the first place, and therefore they all should be taken with us! He laughed and called me a ‘sentimental fool’. I took offense at his jocular tone, so I responded hotly by calling him a ‘stubborn ass who was just looking for something to argue about’. And of course, he took offense at being called a stubborn ass, and the battle of insults began. Gradually, our voices grew louder as our tempers rose. Finally, I’d had enough.

“Will you just take them, for God’s sakes!! For me??!!” I shouted. “I want them because you drew them! Is that too much to ask?!! Just do this one…small… thing…for _me!”_

Silence. His dark eyes that had been flashing wildly with anger, suddenly softened. “They mean that much to you?”

“Yes, they do!”

He chuckled. “Well, damn, why didn’t you just say that in the first place? You could have saved us both a lot of yelling.” He shrugged. “Go ahead then. Take all of them. They’re yours.”

“Thank you,” I conceded softly, shaking my head in confused frustration as I gathered up the drawings into a neat pile. Why hadn’t I just told him that in the first place?

“Michael.”

A thrill raced down my spine at the whisper soft and seductive sound of my name on his lips. I turned to find a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Come here.”

* * *

  
Things were falling into place. I’d spent several nights in London while Daniel slept and had finally managed to secure us a small flat to stay in temporarily. Plus, we’d received word from the barrister that Daniel’s papers were prepared and ready to be signed and witnessed. There were only two pieces of unfinished business: Molly and Samuel. It was time to set things in motion so that both could be finally dealt with, preferably by the week’s end.

“It’s Thursday. Why don’t we go to the tavern tonight and get you some of those Red Deer Pasties that you like so much,” I suggested.

Daniel was sprawled on the bed with his paper and charcoals, drawing me as I sat by the fireplace in the rocker. I’d grown used to this obsessive need of his to put my image down on paper. I barely even noticed it now. 

He raised a surprised eyebrow in my direction. “I didn’t think I was _allowed_ to go there any longer.”

I ignored his petty emphasis on the word ‘allowed’. “We’ll be leaving very shortly. Perhaps you should spend your last days here enjoying those things which give you pleasure.”

“But what if 'you know who' is there?” he quipped childishly.

“I thought we agreed that I would protect you until you were changed. The fact that Samuel may be there is irrelevant now,” I pointed out smugly.

He sighed in defeat, his hopes dashed at starting yet another argument over his safety. “Sure, just let me change clothes.”

* * *

  
The tavern was crowded, leaving us very little choice of seating. We ended up one table away from Samuel and his friends. _Perfect._ Daniel sat, as usual, with his back to most of the room. I, on the other hand, sat very close to Daniel, but _facing_ the room, and Samuel. Our eyes met once in passing, held for a few moments and then moved on. I was relieved to see that Samuel’s interest in me was still there.

Daniel ordered enough food for two people, which pleased Molly greatly. When she returned loaded down with platters, Daniel asked her about stopping by her house for a visit Friday morning.

“To what do I owe that pleasure?” Molly asked, grinning slyly.

“I have something to tell you. It’s important.” Daniel tried to keep his voice light and even, but failed miserably.

The smile disappeared from her face in an instant. “All right then. Come around noon if ye don’t mind. I’ll have Father fed and to bed for his midday rest by the time ye get there. I’ll fix ye something special to eat.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” Daniel smiled and managed to hold it in place until she turned away to help some other customers. Then he ducked his head down and leaned in to me. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it,” he whispered, his voice shaking. I laid a comforting hand on his forearm and squeezed briefly before breaking contact.

“I’ll be there with you,” I assured him, which earned me a small grateful smile. Then he turned his attention to his meal.

It was an enjoyable evening for all concerned. Daniel ate at a leisurely pace, allowing me plenty of time to torment Samuel: a brush of my fingers across the top of Daniel’s hand when I passed him the salt; my knee pressed close against his thigh as we talked casually; a brief caress of his lower back with my hand as I leaned in to hear something he was saying; a slow drag of my palm down the back of his thigh as he stood up from the table. Samuel bore witness to it all. His clear blue eyes were continually drawn to my face or my hands the entire night, just as I’d planned.

“I’m going to the privy, and before you say a word, you’re not going with me.” Daniel donned his coat and pinned me down with his dark stare. He was silently daring me to object.

“As I’ve told you before, I have no interest in your bodily functions. I’ll just keep an eye on things here.” I shot a quick glance in Samuel’s direction, sending Daniel a silent assurance that I would watch him and his friends very closely in his absence.

He smirked, gloating over his small victory and then crossed the room to the door. Samuel got up from his chair with, what I assumed to be, the intent to follow him. As Daniel left the tavern, I intercepted Samuel several feet from the entrance. I sidled up to him and spoke quietly. “I’d like to speak with you before Daniel returns.”

Samuel’s eyes shifted nervously as he suddenly realized that our conversation was taking place in full view of everyone in the tavern, including his friends. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say, bugger!” he barked, loud enough for those in our immediate vicinity to hear.

I lowered my voice even further. “I understand your situation. Say whatever you need to say for appearances sake, but only listen to my offer. I think we have a common interest, or a common _desire,_ I should say. If you want to explore that further, then meet me tomorrow night in that deserted barn. After midnight. Say around 1:00?”

His eyes widened briefly, but then he quickly regained his composure. He turned his back to the room so that only I could see his face. “I’ll try my best,” he said softly under his breath. Then for appearances sake he shoved at me with both hands. I relaxed and allowed my body to slam back against the wall. “Get the hell away from me!”

I raised my hands, palms out, signaling that I didn’t want to fight. Our eyes met for a few moments, and an understanding passed between us. He was going to do more than try his best. I could tell by the gleam in Samuel’s eyes that nothing short of death was going to keep him from our rendezvous tomorrow night. _Nothing short of death._

Daniel interrupted the tense moment with his return. “What’s going on?” His eyes darted between me and Samuel, his body poised and ready for a fight.

“Absolutely nothing,” I answered, holding Samuel’s steady gaze. “Samuel and I had a small misunderstanding, but it’s been taken care of. Everything’s fine now.”

Samuel’s eyes flickered away, and then he brushed by us both and exited the front door. The tension in the room instantly diminished.

“I’m ready to go. You ready?” Daniel asked.

I nodded. I’d accomplished everything I’d set out to do tonight and was more than ready to get back to the quiet cottage. When we got home, I busied myself with the fire. Daniel shed his boots, hung his coat by the door and stretched out on the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles and a big grin on his face.  “So, why all the touching tonight?”

I feigned complete ignorance. "Touching?"

“Don’t act innocent with me. Your hands were all over me. That’s not like you to behave that way in public.”

“I wasn’t aware I was doing it.” I leaned the poker up against the stone fireplace and settled into the rocking chair.

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow and grinned crookedly at me. “Liar. You knew exactly what you were doing. Samuel was watching, wasn’t he? You were rubbing salt in that old wound, weren’t you?”

I fought back a smile, but he caught the glimmer of it and we both laughed. “Yes, I was. It was fun.”

“Maybe for _you_ , it was,” he said, frowning playfully. “But you were driving me insane. Get over here.” He beckoned me to the bed with a single index finger, and for some reason I felt like teasing him tonight.

“I don’t think I want to right now.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise and then grinned crookedly. “I can make you,” he said seductively.

“I don’t think so.” I chuckled. “You’d need an army to do that.”

“Don’t need an army. I have _this._ ” He grabbed at his crotch and laughed heartily.

I tried to keep a straight face, but failed and ended up laughing with him. “You’re incorrigible, Daniel.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already,” he said, winking. “Now come over here.”

* * *

  
Friday morning dawned cloudy, but with much warmer air. Snow had temporarily given way to cold rain that turned the landscape into a brown mush. Daniel and I lingered in bed, delaying our inevitable emergence into real life and the long day that awaited us both. He had to pick up the deed to his property from the barrister and say his final goodbyes to Molly this afternoon, and later on tonight I was going to commit four final acts of murder.

“Everything is very nearly in place. I need to make one more quick trip into London tonight and then we can leave. Hopefully, if all goes well, we’ll be out of here and back in London before the sun rises Saturday morning. Just have your things packed and ready.”

Daniel accepted my instructions as fact as he had no reason to doubt the truth of my words. He had no reason to suspect that instead of being in London tonight finalizing plans, I was going to be in a barn ending a man’s life, and he wasn’t _going_ to know until after the deed was done.

After Daniel ate breakfast, we headed out into the weather. A light drizzle of rain coated our clothes and skin as we sloshed our way through the melting snow into town. Our first stop was the barrister’s office to sign and witness the documents that would transfer Daniel’s property into Molly’s hands. With that taken care of, we set out for her house.

Once we arrived on the outskirts of town, we followed a narrow, winding path that led us to a secluded meadow. Molly’s small cottage stood nestled up against the forest, and looked almost identical to Daniel’s. Dead vines clung to the sides of the house and trailed over the shutters. I imagined them filled with blossoms in the spring. Smoke curled from the chimney, giving the house a warm and inviting air. The surrounding bushes were lovingly trimmed. A sprig of some greenery hung on the outside of the door to welcome visitors. I could very easily picture Daniel living here with Molly. It looked like the sort of place a man could be happy with the right woman by his side.

A meandering pathway of flat, rounded stones led from a broken gate that hung crookedly on its hinges to the front door. Daniel pushed open the small gate and left it ajar. “I was supposed to fix that for her,” he said softly.

I didn’t comment on that, because frankly, I had no idea what to say. There were going to be a great many things left undone and unsaid with his leaving, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He’d made his decision, and despite my asking if he was sure, he still insisted that he was choosing the life he wanted.

Molly met us at the door; she must have been watching for us. We were ushered inside, our wet coats and hats removed and laid by the fire. With the initial greetings out of the way, Daniel and I were left standing in the middle of her small parlor feeling not a little awkward. I sensed that Daniel didn’t quite know how to start the conversation that we needed to have. Thankfully, Molly came to his rescue.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking the tense silence in the room.

Daniel swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“When?”

“We’ll be gone by the morning.”

She reached for Daniel and in two long strides he was in her arms. No sooner had he gotten there than she kissed him, a long, passionate kiss that made me feel like I should avert my eyes, even though I didn’t. Surprisingly, Daniel didn’t pull away. I knew he had to be uncomfortable, but he kissed her back just as passionately, indulging her need to give him this last token of her love. Tears were flowing down her cheeks when they finally parted. At that moment, I wished to be anywhere but in this room with them. The sadness was almost too much to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered to her.

She wiped at her cheeks and sniffed. “Sorry? For what?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed me to be.“

“Daniel Tobias Hart!” she snapped angrily. Her tone surprised me and Daniel both. “Don’t you EVER apologize for who ye are! Do ye understand me?!” Before Daniel could even open his mouth to protest, she continued. “You’re a good man. Better than most men in this town. Don’t ye ever think less of yourself for any reason.”

Daniel pushed a strand of hair back from her face that had come loose from its bindings. “I thank you for that, and I want you to know that if things had been different—if _I_ had been different—I would have married you in a heartbeat.”

Molly smiled and sniffed. “I know that.”

“I don’t want you to languish here like an old maid. I want you find a good man and marry him, and have a family.”

She laughed and attempted to lighten Daniel’s mood. “Think ye I’m an old maid, do ye? Don’t ye worry. I’ll find a man eventually, when I set my mind to it. And ye can count on my first two sons being named Daniel–“ She cast a sidelong glance at me. “–and Michael. No two finer names for strapping young boys to have.” She laid a palm tenderly against his cheek. “I’ll not be forgetting ye, that ye can be sure of. I still have that drawing ye did of yourself a couple of years back, to look at when I start to forget.”

“And I have one of you, as well,” he murmured. Then he dug the deed to his property out of his breeches pocket. “This is for you. It’s the deed to my house and farm.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “I don’t need that. I’m fine as I am.”

“I want you to have it. Sell it if you need money, or rent it. Do whatever you want with it and everything inside. I don’t need it anymore, not where I’m going.”

“And where is that?” she asked curiously, as she took the papers from his hand.

Daniel glanced over at me and smiled. I smiled in return, because I knew his answer. We’d discussed this topic quite extensively. “Everywhere. Michael and I are going to see the world together, starting with Egypt and ending who knows where. I’m not going to need a house for a very long time.”

“I’m so happy for you!” Molly burst into tears again and drew him into her arms. He glanced at me over her shoulder and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. I averted my eyes and stared at the floor while they embraced.

Finally, Daniel pulled away from her. “Look at your wood bin. It’s almost empty. I’ll fill that up for you before we eat. How’s that?”

Molly nodded in understanding. She knew, just as I did, that Daniel was on the verge of breaking down. He needed to escape this room and fall apart in private. Without looking at either of us, he hoisted the bin up into his arms and left out the front door, leaving me and Molly alone with each other. She wiped tear stains from her face and stared pointedly in my direction, holding my gaze steady so that I couldn’t look away.

“I don’t know what manner of man ye are. There’s something about ye that’s not right, but I can’t put my finger on it. Whatever it is, I’m not sure it matters anymore. What matters is that ye love Daniel. I know that sure as the world. I watched ye tend him when he was sick and protect him against Samuel, so I know he means something to ye. Take care of him, Michael, and protect him. Somehow I feel ye can do that better than anyone else. I’m not sure how I know that either, but I know it. Love him fiercely and don’t ever let him be alone. Promise me that. I couldn’t bide the thought of that man living the rest of his life by himself.”

“He won’t be alone. I promise.” It was then that I decided to share with her my plans—not the specifics, but just enough so that she could prepare herself. “I wanted to let you know that there _will_ be private justice for Daniel. I’m going to see to it before we leave. And no matter what you see or hear afterward, you must know that I would never hurt Daniel. He’s completely safe with me.”

She stared at me in silence, and then a slow smile bloomed on her face. “I knew I liked ye, and I believe ye, too. I know ye wouldn’t hurt him, and it warms my heart to know he’s with someone who cares about him enough to make things right for him. I’m all for private justice, as ye well know.”

We exchanged knowing smiles right as Daniel came back into the house loaded down with wood. I helped him unload and stack it while Molly busied herself with laying out our lunch in the kitchen. Daniel’s eyes were swollen and red, but I pretended not to notice. Every man needed to cry his heart out once in a while in private. I only wished I had the ability to do it. I had so many unshed tears inside of me.

“Lunch is ready!” Molly poked her head around the kitchen door jamb and motioned for us to come to the table. I followed Daniel into the small, neat kitchen and sat down beside him, with Molly sitting opposite the both of us.

“I have Neats Tongues to Hash for ye. One of Daniel’s favorites. I hope ye like it.” She was speaking to me specifically, since Daniel was grinning from ear to ear, and already knifing slabs of tongue onto his dish.

“I’m afraid I’ve already eaten,” I offered apologetically.

“No you haven’t,” Daniel said, frowning in my direction. “You can’t hurt Molly’s feelings by refusing to eat her food. She makes the best cow’s tongue in this entire town. Here, have some.”

I glared at him. He knew very well that I couldn’t eat that mess, but he was smirking nonetheless, and sliding lumps of tongue onto my plate while he did it.

“I promise ye, ye won’t die from eating it.” Molly chuckled. “Even though ye look green enough to. Trust me, everyone loves my recipe.”

I smiled weakly and then began to eat, albeit sparingly. I managed to nibble here and there while Molly and Daniel talked and reminisced about old times, but lunch went on long enough that my nibbles eventually cleared my entire plate of food. I was dreading having to expel it all, but knowing that Daniel would be witness to it made me smile inside. Vomiting was never a pleasant thing to watch, but it was even more unpleasant when it was a _vampire_ engaging in it.

We sat by the fireplace until well into the afternoon, lingering over hot mugs of ale. I listened in silence and sipped sparingly while Molly and Daniel talked and laughed softly. I was pleased to see the air of sadness finally leave Daniel. Perhaps it was the ale, which was mildly alcoholic, or perhaps it was that he’d finally faced the part of his leaving that he’d been dreading the most, and it hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought.

Finally, it came time for us to leave. Molly had to feed her father his dinner and get ready to go to work at the tavern. She embraced Daniel for the last time, with only a few tears glimmering in her eyes. She embraced me as well, with a whispered ‘thank you’ that was too soft for Daniel to hear.

Daniel took a deep, cleansing breath as he closed her front door behind him. He smiled sadly at me and then we started off home. I waited until we were well away from Molly’s house to step off into the edge of the woods.

Daniel stopped, puzzled at my sudden detour. “Are you all right?”

Without bothering to answer him, I began the laborious process of vomiting up Molly’s dinner, and I took my good sweet time about it, too. To give him credit, Daniel never left my side, but instead leaned against a tree and waited until I was finished. To my disappointment, he kept his own dinner safe inside of his stomach, despite my copious retching and the disgusting noises that went along with it. When I was through, I leaned against a tree and stared accusingly at him.

“God, I’m sorry. I thought it would, well, digest or something. I didn’t know you’d have to vomit it up.” He seemed contrite and truly apologetic, so I forgave him his mischief at my expense. Somewhat.

“When I told you I didn’t eat food, I meant it. It doesn’t digest. It just sits in my stomach like lumps of lead. It tastes horrible going down and it tastes twice as horrible coming back up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know." He chuckled softly. "But, remind me not to eat food once I’m changed.” 

“Do it once and you won’t _need_ any reminding.” With that I walked away from him and toward home. For once, he trailed behind _me_ , as it took me quite a long time to rid myself of my bad humor.

* * *

 

When we arrived home, Daniel spent most of his time packing last minute items. It was getting late by the time he pulled the desk chair over to the fireplace beside me and settled down. The glow from the fire flickered across the shadows of his profile. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his stockinged feet propped perilously close to the coals in his attempt to warm them. He seemed pensive this evening, as he’d done nothing but stare quietly into the flames for the past half hour.

“You’re staring at me again.” Daniel turned to me and his eyes were warm and alight with good humor. “And I don’t think it’s the kind of stare that says you want to swive me until I can’t walk straight.”

He didn’t get the laugh out of me that he’d expected. The deed that lay before me just a couple of hours from now was weighing on my mind, not that I was going to back out of my decision to kill Samuel and his friends. I wasn’t. They’d escaped justice long enough and it gladdened me that I was going to be the one to mete it out. What bothered me was the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that Daniel was not going to approve of my actions. Honestly, I had no idea how he was going to feel about it, and that frightened me. But that wasn’t the only doubt plaguing my thoughts this night.

“What’s wrong? Tell me,” Daniel pleaded quietly. He pulled his feet away from the fire and turned to face me.

“Do you believe in forgiveness?” I asked softly.

Daniel frowned at my question. “Of course I do.”

“Even for someone like me? Someone who’s killed scores of people without even blinking an eye?”

“Yes,” he answered slowly. “Even for someone like you.”

“I don’t believe in that. I’ve committed too many sins to be forgiven.”

Daniel sat up straight and scooted his chair closer to mine. His dark eyes locked onto mine and he frowned with concern. “It’s not the _quantity_ of your sins that matter. It’s the depth of your sincerity when you ask for forgiveness. If you truly want to quit sinning, and you beg forgiveness with your whole heart, it’s granted.”

“How do you know that?”

“Faith,” he answered. “You have to take some things on faith, Michael. But don’t ever think that you can’t be forgiven for the many lives that you’ve taken. You can. You just have to promise never to kill again and you have to mean it. Me? I’ll never be forgiven for the sin of sodomy, because I refuse to repent of it. I know that I’m damned for that one thing and I accept that, because I’m not going to change. But you? You _can_ change. You can stop killing, ask God for forgiveness and all of it will be washed away as if it never happened.”

It wasn’t his intent, but as I listened to his explanation my temper rose. “There’s no such thing as forgiveness for the things we do here on Earth, because there is no God! That’s utter nonsense!”

Daniel’s eyes flashed with anger. “If you believe it's all nonsense then why in the hell did you bring it up?!” Instead of giving me time to answer, he continued, “I’ll tell you why. It’s because you _want_ to believe. There’s goodness in you, even though you insist that there isn’t. Yes, you’ve committed horrible atrocities, but you want forgiveness for them, don’t you? You want to change your life. Don’t you?”

Instead of answering his question, I posed another one. “How can a supposedly all-knowing and compassionate God condemn one man to hell for the single crime of sodomy, while forgiving another man a thousand acts of cold-blooded murder? The whole idea is just ridiculous.”

“It’s only ridiculous because you’re not listening to me,” he argued. “What matters is your _sincerity_. If you truly repent and stop sinning, then you’re forgiven. It makes no difference whether you’ve killed one man or one thousand men. It’s what God hears in your _heart_ that matters. God hears in my heart that I will never stop living the life I’m living, so therefore I won’t ever receive forgiveness for being a sodomite. It’s not God who’s making the decision to condemn me. It’s solely mine.”

I shook my head in frustration. “That makes no sense to me. There is no way on Earth that the sin of sodomy outweighs the things I’ve done. You should be the one forgiven, and I the one condemned.”

He leaned back in his chair and made a loud, frustrated noise. “Well, it’s all moot anyway. You’re a vampire and I’m soon going to be one. You only need forgiveness if you die, and we’re not going to die because we’re immortal, right?”

“Until someone kills us,” I answered softly, thinking of Asha.

“God, Asha. I’m sorry. I didn’t think when I spoke. But you don’t need to worry about Asha. She’s fine. You need to worry about _you._ You need to change the way you’re living so you can be with her, if you ever truly die, which isn’t going to happen, by the way, because I would sacrifice myself before I’d let anyone hurt you.”

I stared at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded at what he’d just said. Finally I found my voice and the angry words to go with it. “Never are you to endanger your life to save me! _Never!!”_

“Don’t tell me what I am to do or not to do!” he shot back. “You’d do the same for me and you damned well know it!”

I glared at him. “Of course I would, because you’re young!” _And you’re good,_ I added silently. _Too good to die in my place._

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” he fumed. “What does my being young have to do with it? It’s because of love that one of us would sacrifice ourself to save the other. Age is irrelevant!”

We glared stubbornly at each other for several moments. We were at an impasse once again, as we often seemed to be in regards to any controversial matter.

“How did we get on this subject anyway? We were talking about forgiveness,” Daniel said finally.

“It was _you_ who said —“

He cut me off in mid-sentence. “Never mind.” He sighed and then added in a much calmer tone, “I don’t want to argue with you tonight. I really don’t.”

He got up and left me alone by the fire. I stared into the flames and listened as he removed his clothing and drew back the blankets on the bed.

“Come to bed, Michael, and not to swive. Just to talk, at least until I fall asleep. I’m dog tired tonight, for some reason.”

I peeled off my clothes and dropped them in the floor by the bed. I crawled in beside him and turned onto my side so that we were facing each other. He snaked one arm underneath me and around my back, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. He pushed my stubborn cowlick back from my forehead with his other hand.

“I want you to know that I will never give up on you, even though you seem to have given up on yourself. No matter what you believe, I believe there’s hope for you, Michael.”

Whatever small doubts I might have harbored before, I now discarded. I was doing the right thing by seeking justice for Daniel. He was truly a good man with a kind and forgiving heart. Regardless of what he thought, I cared not one whit whether some invisible God would forgive me my sins. It only mattered to me that Daniel would. 


	9. Private Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curses were much more colorful in 17th century England, and sometimes very strange. “Son of a whore” was a very common oath at the time. Less common was the phrase “son of a bitch”. Also, early Englishmen never said the word “shit”. Instead it was “shite”. The word “fuck” was a very coarse and vulgar curse and was never used in mixed company when women were present. As a matter of fact, the word “fuck” was rarely used except by the basest and most loathsome of persons. So, I’ve taken an author’s liberty by injecting more modern curses into the story and by allowing Michael, who is certainly not a base person, to use the word “fuck”. (I also allowed Daniel to use it in an earlier chapter.)

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

I very carefully maneuvered myself from the bed to get dressed, but no matter how much my caution, Daniel still stirred awake. "Where are you going?” His voice was soft and heavy with sleep.

“I have to go out. Remember, I told you earlier?”

“Oh, I forgot.” He yawned, turned onto his back and stretched, and then turned back onto his side to watch me dress. I sat down on the edge of the bed to put on my boots. In a matter of seconds, Daniel’s hand was on my arm, plucking at my sleeve to get my attention. “Hey.”

“Yes?” He tugged at my shirt. I scooted nearer and leaned in closer to him.

“Be careful,” he said softly.

I laughed quietly at his admonition. “No harm is going to come to me. You needn’t worry yourself. I’m a vampire, remember?”

He didn’t laugh with me; his dark eyes were thoughtful and serious. “Well, you never know, do you? Just be vigilant, like you told _me._ ”

“I’m always vigilant,” I assured him.

He sighed deeply. “I can’t wait until I’m like you. Then I can protect you like you protect me.”

I smiled down at him. “We’ll protect each other.” I clutched his shoulder with affection and squeezed gently. “I have to go if we’re to make it to London by daybreak. Go back to sleep and I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

“Not without a proper goodbye, you don’t,” he said, smiling crookedly.

I kissed him, gently at first, and then with more fervor. I was suddenly reluctant to part with him. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to crawl back in bed and forget about my rendezvous with Samuel. Daniel was my future, and everything that was good in my life now. What I was about to do only served to remind me of the loathsome person I’d been before I’d met him, a person I never wanted to be again, but had to be tonight if I was to give Daniel the justice he deserved.

“I have to go,” I insisted softly, pulling myself out of his embrace.

Daniel growled in frustration, but then smiled. “You’re a cruel man. You’re leaving, and here I am with my cock as hard a pine knot and nothing but my hand for a lover.”

I chuckled at his shameless attempt to guilt me into staying. “There’ll be plenty of time for swiving once we get settled in London. I promise.” That is, if he wanted anything to do with me after tonight. I was taking a great chance with his affections, but leaving Samuel and his friends alive was out of the question.

He settled himself back into his blankets. I felt his eyes on my back as I walked to the door. “I love you, Michael."

I turned to look at him one last time before leaving. “And I you.” I winked and gave him a mischievous smile. “And keep your hands on the _outside_ of the blankets.”

His soft laughter followed me out the door and into the night.

 

* * *

 

By the time I made it to my destination, there was nothing left of the Michael Golland who had laughed and joked with Daniel. The demon in me was awake and restive now, anticipating with glee what was to come.

The interior of the barn was dark, except for the soft glow of a single lantern I’d pilfered from someone’s shed along the way. Finally, I heard Samuel’s cautious footsteps approaching the entrance. A low creak from the rusty hinges and he was inside, his eyes searching for me in the dim light.

“You came.” My comment drew his gaze in my direction.

A small crooked smile blossomed on the shadows of his face. “How could I not?”

I motioned with a beckoning hand for him to come closer.

Samuel took a step and then stopped. “I hope you don’t harbor a grudge over the things I’ve said to you in public.”

I gave him a small smile to allay his fears. “I completely understand the need to hide one’s true nature from the rest of the world.”

Samuel resumed his cautious steps. When he finally planted his feet in the stale straw covering the dirt floor, he was mere inches from my body. His cold, clear eyes studied me intently, sweeping over my face repeatedly. I waited patiently for him to complete his appraisal. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered huskily.

“You flatter me.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously and raked his fingers through his thick blond hair. “I have a wife and children. I must insist on a measure of discretion on your part.”

“Have no worries.” I slowly ran a finger down his jaw line, and was pleased to see his body tense. “Your family has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”

I gently tugged at his chin, and met no resistance. The kiss I gave him was tender at first, and tasted of tobacco, alcohol and whatever he’d eaten for dinner, none of which mattered to the demon in me. What he tasted was food and death. Then I deepened it, and added all of the trimmings guaranteed to bring a man to his knees: nibbling, sucking and a great deal of tongue.

“Jesus.” Samuel was trembling by the time he pulled away to catch his breath. “You’re damned good at that.”

I smiled. “I had a very good teacher.” Then I stepped around him and moved close in to his back. Samuel sighed as I laid a trail of kisses up the back of his neck.

“Why are you so cold?”

“A medical condition,” I murmured against his skin. “A minor annoyance. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

I tugged his shirt out of his pants and snaked a hand underneath. He flinched at my cold touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he relaxed his weight back against me, which allowed his entire body to press against mine.

He moaned softly at what I presumed to be the feel of my erection pushing against his arse. “Daniel is so lucky to have you in his bed,” he said with a sigh.

But what Samuel didn’t know was that the thought of killing and feeding made me just as hard as the prospect of good sex, and unfortunately for him, sex was the furthest thing from my mind. “Have you ever done this before?” I asked, whispering into his ear. “Had sex with a man?”

“Not with a man, no. But I have with a boy.”

Something dangerous stirred deep inside of me. _A boy._ He was referring to Daniel, no doubt. I slid my hand around the front of his stomach and toyed with the buttons of his pants. “May I?”

A soft whisper of a groan. “Oh god, please do.”

I swiftly unbuttoned his pants and slid a hand inside. Samuel’s head dropped back onto my shoulder as my fingers closed around his cock. He mouthed a soft vulgar oath into the cool, still air of the barn as my hand began to move. “I’ve never had a boy. What’s it like? Tell me,” I commanded softly in his ear.

“Their skin is so soft. Their bodies smooth and without hair. And god, they’re so tight.” He moaned deeply when I squeezed my fingers a little more. “So much better than a girl, Michael. You just can’t imagine it until you’ve been inside one.”

My rage over what had been done to Daniel was like a forest of dry twigs just awaiting the tongue of a flame. Every word that came out of his mouth added fuel to that growing inferno deep inside of me. “Tell me more,” I breathed into his ear. “Your description is very…stimulating.” I wanted to hear from his own mouth his perception of the encounter with Daniel. I needed it to feed the conflagration of violence that was coming. He fulfilled my request in a quiet and low voice, interspersed with moans as my hand continued to move slowly up and down.

“The boy wanted it. He was so willing, so eager, and God, it’s so much better when they enjoy it.”

I squeezed my hand tighter as I imagined Daniel face-down on the ground with his hands tied behind his back, crying and begging for it to stop.

He moaned again and pushed his body back against my hard cock. “It was such a beautiful thing we did that night. I’ve never felt that way with my wife, or with _any_ woman for that matter. I’ll never forget it as long as I live, or him. His eyes were a deep blue, and his hair a bonnet of golden curls. So soft.”

I froze. My hand stopped moving along his hard shaft. _Blue eyes? Golden curls?_ The bastard wasn’t talking about Daniel! A raging fury bubbled and boiled and tore at my insides, fighting for release. I clamped down on it. “He sounds very beautiful,” I murmured, resuming my slow hand-strokes. “How old was he?”

He sighed. “He was nine and I was fourteen.”

It was at that precise moment that I snapped. My rage ignited like a flame touched to an oil-soaked wick. In a blinding fury, I slammed him face-down on the dirt floor, leaving him choking desperately for the air that had been knocked out of him from the impact. “You despicable, disgusting piece of shite!” I screamed. “How many fucking times have you done this?! How many innocent boy’s lives have you ruined??!”

When he finally found his breath, the screaming insults began. “You crazy son of a whore, get off of me! Get off me, you cocksucker!!”

He was going nowhere. His struggles were useless, and his filthy shouted oaths fell on deaf ears. It was over for him, but he was yet to realize that. I was stretched out on top of him, grinding his body into the dirt floor as effectively as if he were lying under a massive slab of stone. My hands were clamped around his outstretched wrists. I had him pinned in nearly the same position that Daniel had been in on that fateful day eight years ago.

“How many boys have you raped, just like you did Daniel?! Huh? How many, Samuel??!” I screamed the question into his ear not caring how loud my voice was, not caring if the bastard went deaf from it.

“I didn’t force Daniel! The little prick was asking for it! Always looking at us funny, looking at all the boys around here like that! He wanted it! I don’t care what he says, he wanted it!”

I squeezed one of his wrists and snapped it like a dry stick, bringing forth a satisfying scream from his throat. The dark part of me was rapturous at the sound. I snarled viciously into his ear. “You _did_ force him! You held him down, tied his hands behind his back and raped him! You and your friends raped a fourteen-year-old innocent boy! And now I find out that you’ve done the same thing to God knows how many others??!”

“Daniel’s lying to you!” he shouted, gasping painfully. “I swear to you, he wanted it! He’s lying to you! He’s lying and you believed him!!”

His words stopped me short and planted a small seed of doubt. I considered Samuel’s claim while he continued to struggle uselessly underneath me. Had Daniel wanted it? Had he, in his loneliness, unconsciously sent out signals that had been misinterpreted? He’d been young and inexperienced in such matters, and it could have quite possibly been unintentional on his part. The memory of our talk that night flooded my mind. I examined all of the evidence piece by piece: the tears in his eyes; the pain in his voice as he’d related the events of that day; the shame he’d felt at the thought that he hadn’t fought hard enough; the scars on his body, proof that he’d continued to fight long after the deed had been done; the gruesome picture hanging above his mother’s bed as a reminder; the fact that he’d tearfully begged Samuel to stop; the flood of panic and fear that had poured off of him when I’d lost control of my desires and had pinned him against the wall, and finally, his aversion to being penetrated —a fact I’d discovered only after our first sexual encounter, and something that seemed highly unusual for a lover of men. No, all of the evidence pointed to rape in my mind. No question.

I put my lips against his ear and spoke with a quiet menace. “I don’t believe you. Daniel didn’t want it. No one wants to be bound and held down against their will, and then fucked until blood runs down their thighs. Someone who wants it doesn’t cry and beg you to stop. It takes someone with a certain level of coldness to do that sort of thing to another person, don’t you think?!”

_Someone like me._

He continued to insist that Daniel was lying. I finally lost my patience and screamed for him to shut up, which he wisely did. “Daniel tells me you want more than anything to feel a man’s cock up your arse. Is that true?”

He continued to struggle underneath me, and whimper like a small child, but sadly, intelligent conversation was beyond him now. He couldn’t even manage a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. “I’m going to assume your silence is a ‘yes’,” I whispered into his ear.

That was when the begging started, which aroused me even more. I ignored his pleas to spare his life as I ripped his breeches downward from his waist. He continued to fight me, which, at this point, was beginning to annoy me, so I snapped his other wrist. The pain kept him occupied long enough for me to rip off the rest of his clothing and loosen mine.

“You’re going to walk for awhile in your victims’ shoes, my friend. Especially Daniel’s,” I snarled softly into his ear. “You’re going to feel what he felt: alone and helpless, afraid and abused. But mostly you’re going to feel his pain, except yours is going to be much, much worse. You see, I care very deeply about Daniel, and one thing I simply will not tolerate is anyone hurting someone I love. Oh, and something else I forgot to mention. I’m a vampire.” His loud exclamation of disbelief and the sheer terror I heard in his voice only heightened my anticipation. “Yes, Samuel. I am a vampire, a very angry vampire with a very large cock who doesn’t care in the slightest how much pain he inflicts on you while he fucks you. In fact, you most likely won’t survive it.”

The tearful apologies started, the strident cries for forgiveness from me and from his useless deity. I couldn’t speak for his god, but I was most assuredly way past the point where saying he was sorry would fix things. The scars on Daniel’s body spoke the truth of Samuel’s heart more accurately than what was pouring out of his mouth.

“God, please don’t kill me! I have a family! Please!!” he begged tearfully, which had absolutely no effect on me. The demon in me didn’t give a damn about his family or anything else that meant anything to him. It was all about the pleasure now. I pushed his naked thighs open with my knee and prepared to mete out his punishment in the most brutal way possible. Suddenly, Daniel’s voice spoke inside my head as loudly as if he were standing over me at that very moment: _'The sex while feeding has to stop. That defiles you as much as it does the woman, and by extension it defiles **me** —your lover— as well. And second, if you ever take another man to your bed, it’s over between us.'_

I grimaced as the last tattered remnants of my conscience floated to the surface. Samuel deserved to be brutally raped in kind, but when it came down to the actual act, I couldn’t do it. I could defile myself all day long without an inkling of regret, but not Daniel. I suddenly knew, without any doubt, that if I did to Samuel what I’d planned, Daniel would get it out of me and then he’d never forgive me. It would be over between us.

I pulled my knee back from Samuel’s trembling body, and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “It’s lucky for you, my friend, that Daniel’s love means more to me than your suffering.”

I snapped his neck. A quick and painless death. Much less than he deserved.  
  


* * *

  
Dispensing of the other three went flawlessly, for the most part. I was silent death, creeping inside their houses on soft feet and snatching away the life breath from a father, a husband, a son, or in one instance, a lover. I felt no sympathy for any of them or their families. Predators eventually always became prey if they lived long enough. I was doing their family, and the world, a favor by killing them.

A dark quiet bedroom with a wife sleeping deeply alongside. A quick snap of the neck and she was a widow. I slung him over my shoulder and, fast as the wind, returned him to the barn, dumped his lifeless body on top of Samuel’s and returned for the next one.

A dimly lit kitchen and a bottle of rum on the table. In between the emptying of his glass and the refilling of it again, I walked up behind him, snapped his neck, and then added his body to the pile in the barn.

The last one wasn’t where he was supposed to be. His side of the bed was empty, his wife sleeping alone, and he was nowhere else in the house. I tracked his scent to a small cottage, and found him in the arms of another woman. A snap of the neck and her lover was gone. In the process of taking him from her bed, her eyes snapped open from sleep and fixed on mine. I held her gaze and lay my fingers lightly against her face. I replaced her memories with what I _wanted_ them to be. Tomorrow, the description of the man who’d invaded her bedroom would bear no resemblance whatsoever to Michael Golland. A soft command from me and she closed her eyes and returned to sleep.

With the last of them added to the pile, I threw handfuls of the stale, dry straw onto the bodies. I removed the glass covering from the lamp and tossed it into the midst of them. The flames quickly caught and spread like wildfire. Soon, the barn would be engulfed in flames and the attention of the village effectively diverted while Daniel and I escaped to London.  
  


* * *

  
“It’s time to go, Daniel. Wake up.” I shook him gently to roust him from sleep.

“What?” He opened his eyes and then shut them again.

“We have to go. Now!” I shook him again, more urgently this time.

With a great deal of grumbling, he pulled himself awake. While he grudgingly got dressed, I hurriedly smothered the fire with ashes to put it out. While he made a trip to the privy I strapped the saddlebags onto the horse I’d stolen on the way back from the barn. There was no time for him to eat breakfast, so in a matter of minutes we were ready to leave.

He blew out the candles scattered around the room, and then stood at the door as if reluctant to leave. I knew he was saying his final goodbyes, so I tried to be patient. He’d been born in this house. It held all of his memories, good and bad. It took great courage for him to do what he was doing, leaving the familiar behind and putting his life in the hands of the unfamiliar. I admired him so much as I watched him let go of his past.

He sighed deeply, and then shut the door behind him. “I’m ready.”

I mounted the horse, which immediately became skittish as soon as it felt my weight on its back.

“God damn it all, I hate horses,” he muttered under his breath.

We’d had a rather lengthy argument one night over which mode of transportation we should use. He’d suggested a carriage, to which I’d objected as being too noticeable as well as cumbersome and slow. Then he’d suggested walking until I reminded him of how many days that would require, since his pitiful human legs moved at a snail’s pace. Of course, he’d taken offense. So, he’d snidely suggested that I carry him on my back like a sack of grain, and since I was a vampire, and a show-off to boot. He figured that we’d probably make it to London in ten minutes that way. I’d glared at him and then reminded him that a 175 pound man carrying a 200 pound man on his back like an overgrown tick, along with two full-to-bursting saddlebags would be just a tad noticeable to the locals and raise not a few eyebrows. Since anonymity was what we were seeking, a nondescript horse was the best choice.

I extended a hand down to him, but he was no longer paying attention to me or the horse. His gaze was focused on the dark horizon to the north which was now lit with a soft orange glow.

“Something’s on fire!”

“Come! We have to leave!”

“I can’t leave! I have to stay and help with the fire! Everyone has to help. It’s the law.”

“I don’t think you’re required to help put out a fire if you’re the one who started it!” I exclaimed hotly.

That got his attention. He looked up at me and frowned. “What?”

“I said, I started the fire and we don’t have time for me to explain it to you, so just get your arse up here on this horse. Now! We have to go!!”

He narrowed his eyes at me with suspicion, and when he spoke his voice was hard with anger. “I’ll get on your damned horse, but you’re going to explain this to me as soon as we get to London.”

“I have every intention of explaining it. Just get up here. We have to go... _now,_ ” I insisted quietly.

I reached down my hand and hoisted him up, not an easy task to accomplish with a skittish horse. He finally settled in behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “What’s wrong with this horse? The damned thing’s dancing a jig!”

“Horses hate vampires, so hold on tight! It’s going to be a rough ride to London!”

And rough it was. We raced toward London as fast as the horse could go. I purposely avoided the main thoroughfare and instead wove a path through the forests. Daniel yelled in my ear the entire ride: ‘Slow down! Watch out for that tree! Was I trying to kill him? Did I have a death wish?’ to which he answered his own question by shouting in my ear that I was ‘already dead and fucking crazy on top of it! ‘ He shouted curses behind me, calling the horse every foul name he could conjure up and when that failed to slow me down, he commenced to praying. I listened to everything from the Twenty-Third Psalm to obscure Bible verses I’d never even heard of, as we flew through the underbrush on a horse just barely under my control.

We finally emerged from the forest onto one of the lesser-traveled roads into London. I knew from my late-night visits that the fringes of the city were just a short walk away. I stopped the horse. Daniel immediately slid from its back and let his temper explode into the silent darkness.

“Jesus Fucking Christ on a cross! Were you trying to kill me or just scare the shite out me!!” He paced in circles and continued spewing forth the most profane and blasphemous curses I’d ever heard come from one person’s mouth.

I slid off the horse and unfastened the saddle bags. A hard slap to its hindquarters and the horse took off into the night. “Daniel.” I spoke calmly to him. It took several tries to finally get his attention and stop the flow of unholy oaths pouring out of him.

He raked his hand through his hair. He was breathing hard, and I could feel the fear rolling off of him.

“Daniel.” I took a few steps toward him and enfolded him in my arms. The man was trembling. This 200 pound man who was incredibly strong and unbelievably courageous was literally shaking in my arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I murmured softly against his skin. The fear and panic in him lessened as the minutes ticked by.

“God, I fucking hate horses,” he whispered, his anguished voice muffled against the cloth of my coat.

I knew it wasn’t the horse he hated so much as the memories their scent summoned forth in his mind, memories of that day in the barn, when the smell of horse dung and straw had permeated his skin and seeped into his soul. It was doubtful that they would ever leave. Their lingering stench was a part of him now, a part of the innocent boy he’d been that day, and a part of the strong and courageous man he was now. I felt heartsick at how much pain I’d unintentionally inflicted upon him.

“I promise you, I’ll never ask you to ride a horse again. I promise.”

We stood like that, holding each other in the darkness in the middle of a rutted dirt road, for quite awhile. When he finally ceased his trembling, he pulled away from me. “Just swaddle me up in a blanket and carry me into London like the weak babe I am,” he muttered, his voice heavily laden with bitterness.

I took his face tenderly in both of my hands and forced him to look at me. “You’re not weak. We all have wounds. They scab over and heal and we think everything is all right for awhile, and then some little scratch starts them to bleeding again. Then we have to start all over and let them heal again. I understand. Believe me, I do. I’ve been trying to heal the same wound for over five hundred years. For you, it’s the smell of horses that starts the bleeding. For me, all it takes is the sight of a woman with long, black hair plaited in a single braid. Neither one of us is weak. It’s just life, Daniel.”

He pulled my hands from his face and kissed them both, before letting them go. “Every night in my prayers I thank God for sending you to me.”

I was so touched by his words that I didn’t know what to say. This man had done what no other person had been able to do, and that was to stop my vengeful killing spree dead in its tracks. I owed a great deal to him. I smiled. “I’m so very thankful for you as well.” I clapped him gently on the shoulder. “It’s starting to get light. We need to find our lodging and get settled. The city’s that way,” I said, pointing.

I hoisted both of the saddlebags over my shoulder and took off walking. Daniel hastened up beside me and made to pull one of them off. “I can carry one.”

“That’s all right. I can carry both.”

And so another good-natured argument ensued as we began walking toward the city. Daniel called me a ‘cocky vampire showoff’, which seemed to be his favorite phrase to describe me, although most often the word ‘bastard’ replaced ‘showoff’. In rebuttal, I insisted that I was doing us a favor by carrying both of them. He’d arrive in London less one aching back, and I wouldn’t have to hear him complain the whole way about how heavy they were, which they wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t insisted on packing everything in the house.

In the end, and to shut him up, I tossed one of them his way. He caught it in the stomach with an ‘ooomph’ and a dark glare in my direction.

I smiled to myself. Things were going to be good for Daniel from now on. Getting away from that town was the best thing for him _and_ for me. There was only one last thing I had to do before we started our life together. I had to tell him that I’d murdered four people for him and hope and pray that he understood.


	10. The Lavender House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mulberry Garden really existed in London in the mid 1600’s in the area now occupied by Buckingham Palace.
> 
> The Lavender House is completely fictitious. I borrowed this imaginary men’s club from Diana Gabaldon (author of The Outlander series). The description of the club is completely mine, however. (I didn’t want to just copy Ms. Gabaldon’s version). The club/brothel appeared in her Lord John series, which deals with male homosexuality in 18th century London. (It’s a very fascinating series if this topic interests you.)
> 
> Barbican Street was also an actual street that, at times, had a very unsavory reputation throughout London’s history. My placement of The Lavender House on Barbican Street is strictly fictional, since The Lavender House doesn’t exist.

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

I keyed open the wooden door and leaned my bag against the wall. Behind me, Daniel dropped his saddlebag onto the wooden floor and took a look around our one-room living quarters. There wasn’t much to it: a stone fireplace with a small pyramid of wood stacked on the hearth, a desk and straight-backed chair sitting by a shuttered window, a bed big enough for two scooted against the opposite wall and a solitary oil lamp on a short three-legged table beside it. The only redeeming quality of the entire place was the narrow balcony that lay directly across the room from the front door. At the moment, it was hidden behind two flimsy wooden doors.

“I know this is small compared to what you’re used to, but if all goes well, we’ll soon be in a much larger and much more private place.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Where’s the privy?”

“Under the bed, I assume,” I answered.

He took the few steps needed to reach the bed, lifted the covers hanging over the side, and peeked underneath. “That’s just a chamber pot. I’m talking about the privy. Where is it?”

Of course he wouldn’t know the way of things in a large city. This was Daniel’s first trip outside his small village. I couldn’t help but smile at his naiveté. “This is a major city with thousands upon thousands of people living in it. There’s no room for everyone to have their own privy. You use the chamber pot and then toss the contents out the window into the gutters below.”

His mouth dropped open, and then came his dark scowl. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not.” I tugged open the doors hiding the balcony, and gestured for him to come and look. We stepped out onto the balcony. I pointed out the gutter that ran alongside the rear our two-story building and further on to the corner of our street. He leaned over the wooden railing and looked down at the contents, which were partially hidden by the melting ice and snow.

“That’s disgusting!”

“It’s the way of things in the city. Rain washes the waste away, snow covers it up, and animals eat any food scraps they can find. The smell gets bad in the summer, but it’s tolerable in the winter.”

Daniel frowned and looked over at me and just shook his head. He turned away and went back into the room. Reluctantly, he relieved himself in the pot provided under the bed, and with a grimace, came back and tossed the contents over the railing. “What if someone happens to be walking by and my aim is off?” he asked, still frowning.

I chuckled. “Then they’ve had a very bad day.”

He lost his frown and laughed with me. “Yes, they most certainly have at that.”

We withdrew back into the room and closed the balcony doors tightly behind us. While Daniel dug around in one of the bags, I began to build a small fire to take the chill out of the room. “You must be hungry,” I said, as the flames began to lick at the kindling. “The woman who runs this boarding house has a kitchen on the lower floor. A couple of coins will get you a very filling breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry at the moment, at least not for food.” There was a decided change in his tone. I glanced up from the fire to see him looming over me, his good humor of before completely gone. “I think you have some things you need to tell me before we do anything else,” he said quietly, with one eyebrow raised.

I laid a larger log on the fire and then rose to face him. “Yes,” I agreed. Then I hesitated. _Where to start? Should I just blurt it out? Well, you see Daniel, I killed four men for you last night. I did it because I love you, and I also enjoyed it very much._ Daniel was waiting rather impatiently for me to begin, but I was reluctant to even open my mouth. His temper had a life of its own, and if I didn’t handle this well, things could become rather heated between us very quickly.

“Why don’t you start with, let’s see, what exactly you set on fire?” he suggested, his impatience growing.

I backed away from him a little, to give him room to vent his anger without inadvertently hitting me and hurting himself, if it came to that. “That abandoned barn.”

He cocked his head and frowned. “Why would you do that?”

I readied my body for whatever was coming. “So that we would be safe in London by the time the bodies inside it were discovered.”

His eyes narrowed. “Bodies??” His voice was now low and ominous, like dark clouds gathering before a storm.

 _Stop being a coward, Michael. You did the right thing. Those men deserved to die, and you were the logical person to kill them. Just tell him what you did. He’s human. It’s not like he can hurt you._ Aah, but he could. Daniel couldn’t hurt me _physically_ , but unbeknownst to him, the hold he had over my heart was a very powerful weapon in his hands. “I killed Samuel and his three friends last night, put their bodies in that barn, and then set fire to it,” I said softly.

There was no sound to be heard except for the crackling of the log on the fire. Daniel’s body went still, frighteningly still. He held my gaze for a few moments with those coal dark eyes. Frustratingly for me, his expression was completely unreadable. And then, a small glimmer of something hot and explosive began to build in his eyes. I watched in dismay as the bones of his jaw tightened, and his lips pressed themselves together in a tight, angry line. I held my ground as I waited for his blast of temper to overtake me and the room.

“Is it your goal in life to completely emasculate me??!” he spat angrily.

“Of course not. That was not my intention at all,” I answered him, careful to keep my voice calm.

“Then why do I have this sudden urge to check my breeches to see if I have any god-damned bollocks left??!!” he shouted.

“Lower your voice! You’ll have us thrown out of here and with nowhere to go!”

He made a disgusted sound, whirled away from me and then crossed the room to the desk. He slammed his hands down on top of it and then leaned on them, letting his head slump between his shoulders in the process. I decided to keep silent and let him work though his anger. A very long time went by with nothing said between us. Eventually someone was going to have to say the first word. I decided it should be me.

“I understand you’re angry with me, but surely we can talk about this without shouting at each other."

He slowly turned around to face me, and I could see that his temper hadn’t quieted at all. But at least when he spoke, he was no longer shouting. “Anger doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. I swear to God in Heaven, if I were as strong as you, I would have my hands around your throat right now.”

My heart lurched upon hearing that, but I left it alone and pushed forward with my defense. “They deserved to die for what they did to you, and especially after getting away with it for so long.”

He laughed bitterly. “Surely you don’t think I’m angry because they’re dead? I’m not. I’ll have to ask forgiveness for that, but still, right now I’m not. I’m happy that they finally got what they deserved.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m upset because _I_ should have been the one to do it!!” he snarled, his jaw clenched as he stabbed at his chest with his own finger. “The vengeance was mine to be had, not yours!”

“You couldn’t have done it. That’s why I did it for you.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Are you calling me a coward now?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite.” I took a chance and moved a foot closer to him. “You’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met. Look who you’ve given yourself to. A vampire’s human lover does not have the heart of a coward.”

He ignored everything that I’d just said and pushed on with his own defense. “I could have done it after you changed me, then,” he insisted. “I would have been strong enough to take on all four of them.”

“Strength has nothing to do with this,” I said quietly.

His fists curled at his sides. “Then what the hell _does_ it have to do with??!”

I brought a hand to his face, and was relieved that he didn’t shrink away from my touch. “You couldn’t have done it because you’re good. You’re good in here.” I laid my hand over his heart. “You don’t have it in you to murder. If you did, Samuel, at least, would have been dead a long time ago. I, on the other hand, can murder with ease. I’ve had centuries of practice. I wasn’t going to let you start your new life with their blood on your conscience, and I wasn’t going to walk away from that town and leave them alive either.”

“So, you didn’t want their deaths on my conscience, but somehow it’s fine if they’re on yours?” he retorted angrily.

“I have no conscience to sully.”

He made a disgusted sound and roughly pushed my hand off his chest. “I am not having that argument with you again! You _do_ have a conscience! It’s as rusty as the hinges on an old barn door, but damn it, you’ve got one! And because of me…” His voice grew louder. “Because of _me_ , you now have four more deaths to add to your list!! That’s what makes me angrier than anything!! You have absolutely no regard for your own soul! You think you’re not good, but you are, you’re just five centuries out-of-practice!”

I stared back at him at a loss for words. Daniel truly had no grasp of the level of evil inside of the man he loved. Even after witnessing the murder of the prostitute right before his eyes he still believed in my inherent goodness, although he grudgingly admitted that it was buried far beneath the surface, hidden in some deep, dark place inside of me. At least he acknowledged that much. I steeled myself for the ramifications of what I was about to do. He had to know. Whatever the consequences, he had to know.

“Samuel and I made eye contact outside, on the street, while you were inside the barrister’s office that day. I recognized it for what it was: he was sexually attracted to me. I used his feelings for me to lure him to that barn. He came alone, as I knew he would. It was my intention to rape him as he had raped you, except his would have been a much more brutal affair that would have resulted in a long and painful death for him.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed down his disgust? Disbelief? Fear? It was hard to tell with him.

“At the last moment, I decided not to do it, and instead snapped his neck.” I made a sharp, quick twisting motion with my fist to illustrate the ease with which I’d done it. “Then I did the same thing to the other three. I piled their bodies in the barn, threw the oil lamp on them, and I enjoyed every single moment of it. I walked away from them and never looked back, and I never _will_ look back, Daniel. I have no regrets, and I’d do it again if anyone ever tried to hurt you.”

He swallowed again. “Sometimes you really scare me,” he whispered.

I acknowledged that unfortunate fact with a nod. “I’m glad of that, in a way. You should never forget what I am. Even though I would never hurt _you_ , I’m perfectly capable of hurting anyone else who is deserving of it, and sometimes even those who aren’t.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You said at the last moment you decided not to do it. What changed your mind?”

“I knew you would never forgive me for it. And as I told Samuel just before I killed him: your love means more to me than his suffering. I killed him because I love you, and I know how strange that sounds, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you starting your new life with no justice for what was done to you, nor could I allow you to take your revenge. I’ve lived a life based on vengeance and murder and it’s not something I would ever want for someone I love. I certainly didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to have the guilt of their deaths hanging over your head for the rest of eternity, because you would have felt guilty about it. No matter how happy you are right now that they’re dead, eventually it would have come back to haunt you, because your values, your basic morals, are strong and unbending. I so admire that quality in you.”

He shook his head and laughed, but it was a laugh filled with irony instead of humor. “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I believe you. I believe that in your heart you felt you were doing right seeking justice for me, but I have one thing I must ask of you, Michael. It’s a very serious request. No, actually it’s a demand: don’t ever do anything like that for me again. Killing for me if my life is in immediate danger is one thing, but outright murder is something else entirely. Don’t ever murder anyone for me again. I don’t ever want to be the reason for someone else’s death, or for the added burden that death would put upon your soul.”

Despite the intensity of his voice, I was relieved to see no anger left in him. “I won’t. I promise you that. But there’s one other thing you should know. You weren’t Samuel’s only victim.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed again. “He spoke fondly of a nine-year-old boy with blond curls and blue eyes. He assaulted him when he was but fourteen years old.”

“Jesus Christ.” I heard the tears in his voice as he turned his back to me. He swiped roughly at his face for a few moments, and then turned back around to face me. “Thank you.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Thank you for doing what I couldn’t do, and what needed to be done. I pray to God that tonight, because of you, all of Samuel’s victims find peace in their dreams. I know I will.”

It was unclear which of us reached for the other first, but regardless, we ended up in each other’s embrace for a long time. When he finally pulled away, I held on to both of his arms to keep him close. “Everything is well between us?” I asked hesitantly.

He smiled, a very small smile, but still a smile nonetheless. “Yes, everything is well.”

He leaned into me, and his warm mouth touched gently against mine. Several tender kisses later, he pulled away, his forehead still touching against mine, but his lips were just a hair’s breath away. “Well, _almost_ everything is well."

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“You might check my breeches to make sure my bollocks are still there.” He chuckled softly, planted another soft kiss on my mouth and then pulled away again.

“I know for a certainty that they’re still there,” I said with a wry smile. “It would take a much stronger man than me to emasculate a man like you.”

He gave a tiny nod of agreement. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.” His soft, seductive laughter raised chill bumps all over my body.

I slid my hand up the side of his leg, across the front of his thigh and then into the warm crevice between his legs. Even through the thick fabric of his wool breeches, I could feel that everything was safe and sound and where it should be, albeit a bit larger. “They’re there.” I chuckled. He moaned softly when I “checked” again.

“Good,” he said, his voice husky with lust. “’Because I’m going to need them.”

* * *

 

“Do you have any formal clothing in one of those bags?” I was perched on the edge of the bed, partially dressed in fresh breeches and in the process of cleaning the dirt off of my boots.

“Sure. My funeral clothes.”

Funeral clothes? I glanced over at him with an amused frown, but decided not to even ask. He was sprawled out on the bed behind me with nothing on but a satisfied smile. We’d passed a very enjoyable afternoon in bed talking and doing other quite pleasant things with each other. Now, getting him to leave our warm bed and the fire to go out into the cold evening was proving difficult.

“Then you need to get dressed, because we have an appointment. We’re meeting with a Mr. Edmund Brockhurst this evening in regards to his need for a caretaker for his estate, and we need to look presentable, _and_ we need to be prompt.”

He sighed and reluctantly dragged himself off the bed. I paused in my cleaning to watch him cross the room and get dressed. He was a very attractive man, both from the front and the rear. I enjoyed the feast he provided for my eyes as he made the few steps needed to reach the bags. Stolen opportunities such as this, where I could watch him without his noticing it, were rare. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to feel whenever my eyes were upon his body.

“Is it my arse or my cock that’s got you so mesmerized?” He grinned at me, and then broke out into laughter.

I made a disgusted sound, not at his question, but because I’d been caught once again. I’d been looking at both. “Shut up and get dressed,” I growled, and then returned to my cleaning.

He chuckled underneath his breath and then started pulling on his linen stockings. “So, who is this Edmund Brockhurst?”

“I met him in an establishment nearby on a previous visit—The Lavender House. He’s looking for a gentleman or two to watch over one of his estates in Paris while he’s gone. Where he’s going and how long he’s going to be gone, I’m not quite clear on. It sounds like the perfect place for us, though. Very private, lots of acreage and no one around for miles— the ideal setting to change you without any unwanted interruptions.”

“Then that’s definitely an appointment we need to keep.” He quickly dressed, and when he was finished, he looked quite the dashing rogue. “What are you smiling at?” he asked, scowling. “I feel liked a trussed hen just before it’s tossed onto the coals.”

“On the contrary. You look very nice.” His dark gray breeches fit more snugly over his thighs than was the fashion, but the muscles in them were to blame. The same with the matching form-fitting waist coat that hugged his wide shoulders and the white linen shirt underneath it. It wasn’t that his clothing was too small, but that his body filled them out in interesting places. White linen hose barely peeked above the top of his boots. All-in-all he looked very presentable.

“If you’re ready, we need to be going. I’d like to arrive at our destination before nightfall.” I had two reasons for that: one was that the sporadic spacing of lamplights made passage through the streets perilous for humans, and the second was the dubious character of those who frequented these streets after dark.

He wriggled uncomfortably in his clothes and sighed. “I’m ready.”

I smiled to myself. I was fairly sure that Daniel wasn’t ready, at least not for what awaited him this evening.

* * *

 

It was dusk by the time we emerged from the boarding house onto the bustling street. I cautioned Daniel to watch for the gutters and to keep his feet on the worn cobblestones that served as a walkway of sorts. As we proceeded up the narrow street, I reached down and grabbed his hand, threading my fingers in with his. He quickly jerked it away and hissed at me.

“What are you doing?? You can’t do that in public! You’ll get us both hanged!!”

I laughed softly and stopped walking. “Stop and take a good look around you.”

I watched him with amusement as he finally took notice of the people in the streets. “Where are all the women?” he asked with a puzzled frown.

“There are very few women in this part of London. Only those who perform a service for a business, or something of that nature."

His eyes widened upon seeing two men across the way from us walking hand-in-hand. He made a soft sound of shock at seeing two well-dressed gentlemen walking well ahead of us stop, exchange a kiss and then continue on with their evening stroll. “Where the hell are we?” he asked, finally bringing his unbelieving eyes back to mine.

“We’re in London, England,” I said. “At one end of Barbican Street, to be exact. This area of London is very tolerant of men like you, and I suppose I am included in that category now, as well. Here, men can openly express their affection for one another without fear of hanging, but only in the evening. I wouldn’t recommend such behavior in broad daylight.”

I grabbed his hand and tugged. We continued walking while he gawked at passersby in a most discourteous manner. “It’s impolite to stare,” I chided him good-naturedly as we made our way slowly up the street—slowly, because Daniel was attempting to absorb everything around him, while trying to walk without slipping a boot into the foul gutter.

“Stop.” He yanked at my hand, and then before I knew what was happening, his hands slipped underneath my coat and around my waist, and he was kissing me. Not a gentle kiss, but a hard, hot and intense meeting of the mouths. When he broke away, his face was awash with happiness. I’d never seen him so buoyant since I’d known him. “This is wondrous,” he said excitedly. “This is like heaven to me. You can’t even imagine!”

I gave him a look of skepticism. Barbican Street was the farthest thing from Heaven—if there even was one—that existed.

“Go ahead and scoff,” he argued with a smile. “But in my Heaven there’s no pussy anywhere to be found. Maybe in yours, but not in mine.”

I laughed despite myself. “Your vulgar sacrilegious comments are most likely going keep you out of _any_ Heaven, regardless of who’s there or not.”

“Then I’ll just spend eternity _here,_ ” he answered, grinning.

As we walked, I gave him even more interesting tidbits to mull over. “Mulberry Garden is not far from here. King James got the bright idea that he could raise silkworms there, a venture which failed miserably. It’s rumored that at night, men congregate underneath the mulberry trees to have sex.” Daniel shook his head in silent astonishment as I continued. “There are several brothels in this area as well—for men only, of course. That’s where our appointment is, except this one is much more respectable than most. It’s very private and very exclusive. The Lavender House only allows _gentlemen_ behind its doors. No riff-raff from the street can gain entry.”

“So how did you manage to get an invitation? Not that I’m saying you’re riff-raff, or anything,” he added hastily.

“I’m a vampire. When I wish, I can convince anyone to give me anything.” I chuckled. “Mr. Brockhurst thought me quite the respectable and reliable gentleman who would be the perfect caretaker for his estate, when I spoke to him last. I intend to remind him of that again tonight.”

“That’s quite a handy gift,” Daniel mused.

Finally we reached the end of Barbican Street, and The Lavender House, as dark was descending over London. Two oil lamplights hugged each side of the massive wooden entry doors, and threw a soft glow of light across our faces. I raised the knocker on the door and rapped twice, and then after a pause, rapped three more times, a signal to the doorman (according to Mr. Brockhurst) that I was an invited guest. A tiny door within the door slid open. I spoke my name into the dark hole. After a few moments, the doors were swung open for us. The interior was like stepping into another world. Daniel’s mouth dropped open as he took in the opulence laid out before us. I jabbed him in the side, and whispered to him to behave like a cultured gentleman instead of a baby bird waiting for its dinner. He closed his mouth, cleared his throat and stood up straighter.

In a matter of moments, a young man who appeared to be in his twenties, came to greet us. His outlandish clothes were obviously made of the finest silks, his shoes of the softest leather. He was wigged and perfumed like a courtier in King Charles II’s palace. Daniel’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow in my direction.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” He extended his hand, first to Daniel, and then to me. “My name is Gyles Withington and I’m Mr. Brockhurst’s liaison. If you’ll come this way, please.”

We followed him through the main dining area, which was luxurious beyond all imagination, and I suddenly felt like a rabbit surrounded by foxes. Every set of eyes followed our progression through the room. Men paused in their dining, or their conversations to nod a greeting, or in some cases to wink. As we passed, their quiet discussions resumed, along with the tinkling of wine glasses and spoons against china plates. Daniel’s eyes upon my body were quite pleasant, but the feel of a roomful of them sweeping over me I found to be rather unsettling. I could only wonder what Daniel thought of it, because he was walking in front of me, and never once glanced back. It was with great relief to me that we finally left the dining area behind and were now relaxing in leather chairs in a comfortable office.

Mr. Withington took his seat behind an ornately carved and polished wooden desk. “How may I be of service to you gentlemen, tonight?” he asked politely.

“We’re here to see Mr. Brockhurst,” I answered.

Mr. Withington glanced briefly at me. “You’ll have to see me first, I’m afraid.” Then he turned his attention to Daniel, who was lounging in the chair to my left, and smiled. “Everything to do with Mr. Brockhurst’s business affairs passes by me first. I’m his assistant.”

“I spoke to him several nights ago about a caretaking matter. He’s expecting me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice polite even as the man was ignoring my very presence in the room.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he said, directing his comment to Daniel and completely ignoring what I’d just said to him.

“It’s Daniel Hart.”

“It is my distinct pleasure to meet you, Daniel. I _can_ call you Daniel, can’t I?”

Daniel simply nodded.

“Then you may call me Gyles,” he said, with an enigmatic smile that I recognized at once for what it was. The man was sending those damnable signals straight at Daniel, and he had to be aware of it, if it was obvious even to me!

“I’m Michael Golland,” I added, just in case this simpering idiot cared.

He glanced my way. “I’m aware of who you are.” Then he immediately dismissed me and turned his attention back to Daniel. “I must say, you look quite dashing in those clothes. Who is your tailor, Daniel?”

Daniel shot an amused glance my way, and before he could open his mouth, I interjected with a little less politeness than before. “Mr. Withington, we’re busy men, and we have an appointment. I must insist that you inform Mr. Brockhurst of our arrival so that we can complete our business and be on our way.”

“You’ll get to see Mr. Brockhurst when _I_ decide you get to see him,” he announced, his voice as cold as the night air. “My employer and I are very busy men, as well. To get to him, you have to go through _me_ , and my time isn’t free… _Mister_ Golland.”

My temper was quickly rising, and my patience with this fool was nearing its end. “I have money, if that is all you require in exchange for your valuable time.”

He laughed softly. “I have all the money I could ever spend and then some. I don’t want your money.” Then his pale eyes settled on Daniel again. “But perhaps we could work out another method of payment…”

Daniel laughed. I glanced his way and was dismayed to see that cocky attitude of his on full display, and a wide grin to match it. “The last time I looked… _Gyles_ …my cock bore no resemblance whatsoever to a farthing,” Daniel said with a smirk.

The man’s eyebrows raised. “Then, my dear, that begs the question. What _does_ it resemble?”

“Think of horses, Gyles, and you have your answer,” Daniel said, his smirk still firmly in place. I was quite close to killing the effeminate bastard sitting behind the desk and throttling the man beside me who claimed to be in love with me!

“That’s a very stimulating picture you’ve painted for me. I fear I won’t sleep a wink tonight thinking about it.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Daniel said quietly, with another smirk. “Your hand is probably going to be very busy.”

It was at that point that I reached my limit. I shot up out of the chair, inadvertently slamming it back against the wall. “This meeting is over. Tell Mr. Brockhurst if he’s interested in completing our business deal to contact me directly. I won’t have any further dealings with his molly. Come Daniel, we have better things to do.”

I turned on my heel and stalked out of the room, with Daniel following close behind. I didn’t even spare a glance for the myriad of eyes that were no doubt following our hurried exit from the club. Once outside, Daniel struggled to keep pace with my angry stride while keeping to the safety of the cobblestones.

“What the hell is the matter with you?! Damn it, slow down! I only have two fucking legs and its dark as the inside of a whore’s cunt out here! _Slow down!_ ” I slowed my pace, which allowed him to finally catch up with me. “Why did you storm out of there like that? Would you stop and answer me?”

I came to a halt and faced him. The glow from a lone lamplight cast a small pool of light over us. “That man was looking at you like you were a morsel of meat to be devoured in one bite, and you were encouraging him.”

Daniel’s mouth dropped open in astonishment and then he laughed. “I can’t believe you think I was attracted to that pitiful excuse for a man. I was toying with him. I was having fun with the poor fool. Good God, the man’s balls couldn’t be any bigger than a cricket’s, and you think I’d find that kind of man attractive??”

“Discussing the size of your cock with that effeminate piece of offal, while sitting beside the man who shares your bed, wasn’t the least bit amusing to me!”

“You’re jealous,” he said softly. “Oh dear God in Heaven, you’re actually jealous.”

I snarled and walked off from him. Yes, I was jealous but I didn’t want to admit falling victim to such a juvenile emotion, especially to him.

He caught up with me, and plucked at my coat. “Michael, stop. This is ridiculous. You’re acting like a child, like some overgrown—”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before he found himself yanked into an alley by his arm, and pushed up against the wall of a building with my face in his. “No one looks at you that way, except for me!!”

His breathing deepened along with a quickening of his heartbeat. “Uh, you need to just calm down. All right? Just calm yourself,” he said softly. “I can’t help how another man may look at me, but rest assured that you own my heart. It belongs to you, along with the rest of me. There isn’t a man alive on this earth with the ability to lure me away from you, no matter what he may offer in return. I wasn’t speaking lightly when I told you I’d be your constant companion. I meant that.”

His words were heartfelt and honest. I chastised myself harshly for letting my emotions overtake my common sense. Of course, Daniel wouldn’t find that idiot attractive. What had I been thinking? I backed away from him. “I apologize for my behavior. I don’t know what came over me.”

He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes spoke volumes. “I do. It’s called love. You’ve finally found it again and you’re terrified of losing it, like you did with your wife. But I promise you, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“I love you, Daniel Tobias Hart. I have no idea why, but I do.”

He smiled even wider. “I’ve known that for awhile now, but it’s very nice to hear the words. Now, let’s get home. Even though I won’t get hanged for it, I don’t think I want to swive you up against a cold brick wall.” We held hands as we slowly maneuvered our way through the dark streets. “So, do you think Mr. Brockhurst will contact you for another meeting?”

I sighed. “I have absolutely no idea.”

He chuckled and squeezed my hand. “Calling the man’s assistant a molly probably wasn’t the best idea in the world."

“I agree,” I said, sighing again. “One of these days, I’ll learn to control my temper and keep my mouth shut.”

Daniel laughed quietly. “When you learn how to do that, teach _me_ , why don’t you.”

 


	11. Edmund Brockhurst & France

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

Daniel spent the morning absorbed in drawing anything and everything he could see from the window: the balcony and even things from our outing the night before.

“These are my memories,” he answered, when I’d asked him why he insisted on committing to paper the sight of a vegetable vendor with his rickety cart, along with other random scenes that seemed to be of little importance.

After that, I kept silent and watched him fondly as he sketched. I had my own things to worry about, specifically, the need to leave London as quickly as possible. With the caretaking idea seemingly out of the question, our choices were very limited now. I pondered various possibilities and discarded them all.

“You think they’re looking for us?” he asked without breaking the rhythm of his hand on the paper.

“Maybe,” I answered, despite my wish to avoid the topic of the murders entirely.

“Four bodies, my house deserted, and everyone knowing of the hatred between me and Samuel,” he mused softly while he drew. “Yes, they’re definitely looking.”

“London is a very big place. Millions of people live in this city. It won’t be an easy task for them.”

His hand stopped and he looked in my direction. “Two men, whom the whole town knew lived together in an 'unnatural' way.” He sighed. “Where is the first place they’re going to look? If I were in their shoes, I’d search where men like us congregate together.”

His rationale was sound, and it left me with a very uneasy feeling. “How did I not think of that?” I muttered underneath my breath, disgusted that I’d failed to take that very important detail into consideration.

“You were more concerned with me being comfortable here, which was thoughtful of you,” he answered, returning his eyes to his paper. “Don’t worry about it.”

 _Don’t worry about it?_ He might as well tell the sun not to rise in the morn. After considering Daniel’s words, I realized it was even more imperative that we leave London as soon as possible. If nothing else, we could just cross the Channel and take matters from there as they came.

A sharp rap to the door interrupted our thoughts. Daniel shot me an alarmed glance, laid his drawings on the floor and quickly rose, his body tensed for a fight. I silently gestured to him that I would get it. Whatever lay behind that door was going to have to go through me to get to Daniel. I moved closer and motioned for him to get behind me. He frowned in disapproval, but complied.

“Who is it?” I asked through the door.

“A message for Mr. Michael Golland from Mr. Edmund Brookhurst, sir.”

The tension in the room immediately dissipated. The voice behind the door was too cultured and refined to be someone from Daniel’s village. I unbolted the door and was relieved to find a finely-dressed man standing at attention and with an envelope in his gloved hand. “I’m Michael Golland,” I informed him with a polite smile.

“A message for you from Mr. Brockhurst,” he said formally, extending the envelope to me.

I took it, broke the wax seal and pulled out the creamy paper inside. I glanced over whatever was written on it, with Daniel peering over my shoulder. I grimaced and handed it back to the messenger. “Neither one of us can read. Could you, perhaps, relay the contents of this message?”

“Of course, sir. If it is convenient, Mr. Brockhurst requests that you return to The Lavender House tonight at the same appointed time. He also wishes you to know that you will be speaking directly with him upon your arrival.”

A sense of relief washed over me. “Tell him yes, we’ll most certainly be there.”

“Very good sir, and you may keep this.” He handed the envelope and the letter back to me, nodded silently and left.

I shut the door behind me and stared down at the creamy paper. “Seems we have another chance to redeem ourselves,” I mused, as I studied the black marks written all over it.

Daniel snickered. “ _If_ you can control your temper, that is.”

“I’ve learned my lesson, not to worry,” I said absent-mindedly. I was too much absorbed in the symbols before me to let myself get drawn into a teasing match with him.

“What’s so damned interesting?” Daniel frowned and leaned in to get a closer look at the letter.

“These marks all over the paper mean something, and I want to know how to interpret them. As soon as possible, you and I are going to learn to read.”

He returned my determined gaze with a skeptical frown, but one thing Daniel had yet to discover about me was that, once aroused, my curiosity was insatiable. I didn’t know when or how, but one way or another I was going to learn what every one of those black marks meant.

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Golland, so nice to see you again. Welcome to The Lavender House.” After the necessary formality of introductions, and polite requests to call each other by our given names, Mr. Brockhurst— _Edmund_ —directed us down a quiet hallway to his office.

Daniel and I had decided beforehand that I would do all of the talking, since I’d already met with the man once before. However, it took me less than a minute to realize I was going to have to keep a close eye on him despite our agreement. Edmund’s hand resting lightly on my forearm as we’d walked down the hall had raised Daniel’s eyebrows ever so slightly, and then caused his eyes to darken and narrow. It was imperative that this meeting go smoothly, so I’d sent him a stern warning with my eyes that even a blind man could have noticed. Whether he would heed it or not remained to be seen.

Daniel and I settled ourselves in comfortable leather chairs in Edmund’s dark paneled office. His very expansive desk remained unoccupied as he elected instead to sit in a chair alongside us—he on my right and Daniel on my left. A decorative oil lamp and an elegant snuff box sat on a low wooden table between us.

We politely refused offers of drink and tobacco, and spent a few minutes discussing such mundane topics as the weather and politics. I studied Edmund while he related a particularly humorous story about King Charles. The fire in the hearth cast a warm glow over his features. He was young, perhaps in his mid thirties if I were to guess. His long hair was an ordinary shade of brown and was tied at the nape of his neck with a silk ribbon. His eyes were a very light brown and sparkled with curiosity and intelligence. His slender frame filled his finely tailored clothes to perfection. Taken as a whole, he cut the figure of a very successful and cultured man. At the end of his story, and our polite laughter, he left off with the pleasantries and got down to business.

“Before we proceed, I must offer my apologies for what transpired last evening. I was in a meeting with another gentleman and had asked Gyles to keep you entertained while you waited. You must understand, Michael, that we have complete freedom to be ourselves within these walls. Some men use that freedom with tact and decorum and others do not, unfortunately. Gyles is an excellent assistant, but he tends to get over-zealous at times, both in his work _and_ in his affections. I apologize on his behalf if he offended either of you.”

We offered our polite denials and assurances that there were no ill-feelings on either of our parts. Daniel’s eyes were full of his characteristic mischief, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Michael, I was very impressed with you the last time we spoke. I feel certain that you’re just the man I’m looking for to help me out of my difficulties, but I do have a couple of questions before we go further. Namely, I’m curious as to the urgency of your request to take care of my estate. I sincerely hope you aren’t brigands running from the law,” he said with a polite smile.

Daniel and I laughed, as if such a thing were ludicrous to even consider, let alone speak aloud. “Certainly not. Our urgency stems from a more personal reason. You see, Daniel and I are newly acquainted, and we’re very eager to have some privacy where we can get to know each other better. Without prying eyes. I’m sure you understand.”

Edmund leaned toward me and winked. “Aaaah, new love. Yes, I understand, Michael. I have very fond memories of my first love. This is a very special time for you.” He patted my arm gently, and I knew Daniel was annoyed without even looking in his direction. "I must say that your eyes are very beautiful. I noticed them before, but failed to comment on them. They’re really quite strange, but compelling at the same time. It’s almost as if they’re two different colors,” he said softly.

It suddenly felt like someone had left the door open, because a cold air of disapproval was creeping into the room from my left. I could sense the tension in Daniel’s body, and almost knew with a certainty that he was close to breaking our agreement to keep quiet.

Edmund’s hand was still resting on my arm, which enabled me to gently nudge him with my gift into making the decision to hire us. Removing it from underneath his fingers, while it might placate Daniel, might just as well serve to offend Edmund, and I certainly didn’t want him to think that his touch was distasteful to me. However, Daniel’s temper was a force not to be taken lightly either. I was starting to wonder how in the hell I was going to diffuse this situation before it got completely out of hand.

“Yes, they actually are two colors. They’re mostly brown but a certain way the light reflects off of them makes them appear to be reddish,” I explained, and then decided to add a lie to make things more convincing. “My father had the same eye color.”

“Truly? How very interesting,” he said, clearly astonished, and then shook his head and continued. “But back to the business at hand. As part owner of The Lavender House, I’m always very curious about the men who cross our threshold. You two are not like most I’ve seen. I can’t put my finger on it, but you seem a very different sort of couple. How did you meet, if I may be so bold as to pry?”

Before I could even open my mouth, Daniel leaned forward and answered him. “We met in a tavern. I told him I wanted to swive him, and he told me he wanted to kill me.” Then he smiled crookedly. “It was love at first sight.”

I shot Daniel a look that basically said for him to sit back and shut his damned fool mouth, but he just smirked at me. I turned to Edmund, who was looking rather perplexed, and chuckled. “You have to overlook Daniel’s sense of humor. It can be rather odd at times. What actually happened was I rescued him from the clutches of a whore who’d had her heart set on spending the night with him,” I explained, smiling smugly. Daniel’s eyes narrowed at my twisting of the events of that night, but he managed to keep his retort to himself.

Edmund laughed uproariously. His hand moved from my arm and found its way to my knee. “Well done, Michael! Well done! To leave the poor lad in the arms of a whore would have been a fate worse than death! Very gallant of you!” I chuckled along with him, but Daniel failed to see the humor in it.

As soon as our laughter died down, Daniel leaned forward again and met the man’s gaze head on. “Edmund, I hope you don’t take offense at what I’m about to say, but if you don’t remove your hand, I’m going to break every one of your fingers,” he said, his voice menacingly low and calm.

The room went quiet. Edmund quickly retracted his hand from my knee. Daniel relaxed comfortably back into his chair and waited smugly for a reaction to his threat. I shot him a menacing glare. Thanks to _his_ jealousy this time, we’d most likely just lost our best chance at getting out of London by tomorrow. I glanced back at Edmund. He was studying Daniel. They were studying each other, actually. I felt not a little ridiculous, like I was caught in the middle of two rutting goats vying for mating privileges.

“My, my, my. Your lover is very protective of you,” Edmund mused softly. “Such intense devotion. I admire that in a man.” He nodded in Daniel’s direction. “My apologies, Daniel. It won’t happen again.”

Daniel smiled and nodded back.

“I think both of you are exactly the type of men I’m looking for. As far as I’m concerned, consider yourselves my new caretakers.”

It was with a great sense of relief that we finally shook hands on the deal. But there was something I needed to know before we committed ourselves completely. “If I might ask, how long will you need our services?”

“That, my dear Michael, is rather difficult to answer.” He sighed. “You see, I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a… _delicate_ …situation which requires my immediate departure from London. My barrister has informed me that I have a ‘great desire to see Europe and all of its wonders’ while he attempts to repair the damage I’ve done,” he said with a small grin and a wink. “So, I would say at least three months, quite possibly as long as six. Oh, and a word of advice. Never mix lovers, power and money in the same pot. It makes for a very bitter soup,” he said, smiling wryly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said politely.

He then gave us very detailed instructions on what was expected of us during our stay at his estate. A thick envelope stuffed with the necessary papers, keys and contact information made its way into my hands.

“I assume you have experience with animals, since you grew up on a farm,” he commented, as we were bringing the meeting to a close. “I have two horses stabled there, and plan to release the man who is caring for them at present, just as soon as you arrive.”

Daniel’s eyes met mine and I could already see the plan forming in his head to foist the care of the horses completely onto my shoulders. “Yes, we’re very knowledgeable about horses. That will present no problem.”

And as an afterthought, he asked, “Oh, and do you perchance like to hunt?”

Daniel snickered softly, but withheld comment. “Yes, I very much enjoy hunting,” I answered smoothly.

“Good, then feel free to make use of my land. Kill whatever you need to sustain you during your stay. It’s rich with game. Now, if that is all?”

I nodded, and we all rose from our chairs to leave. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edmund’s hand start in the direction of my arm, but he caught himself just in time. He smiled with chagrin. “At the risk of having my head ripped from my shoulders by your attentive lover, let me just say that if you ever find yourself in need of anything, Michael… _anything at all_ …you know where to find me.”

I smiled and nodded, choosing to ignore his hidden meaning. 

Daniel chuckled smugly. “That’s kind of you to offer, but don’t hold your breath.” 

Edmund laughed and extended his hand in Daniel’s direction and they shook. “I like you, Daniel. I like you a great deal. Michael is very lucky to have you by his side. In fact—” He sighed with what sounded like envy. “—I think you’re both very lucky to have each other. If you would like, feel free to stay and have dinner, my compliments.”

He couldn’t have done anything better to redeem himself in Daniel’s eyes than to offer him free food. “Thank you. I’d like that very much,” Daniel answered, grinning.  
  


* * *

 

We were seated in a secluded corner off by ourselves, with an unobstructed view of the rest of the dining room. Daniel had followed the waiter’s recommendations and ordered the house specialty along with two steaming cups of coffee. He was more excited over the coffee than the food. Apparently, it was an expensive luxury that was in short supply in London, and one that he’d never been able to afford. He savored every drop.

“So, evidently I’m not the only one susceptible to jealousy,” I commented lightly, as I watched him eat his meal with his usual enthusiasm.

He paused in between bites to chuckle. “I wasn’t jealous. Not at all. The man was pissing on my fence post. He just needed a little reminder that he was trespassing.”

I frowned at him. “So, that’s what I am? A fence post for pissing on? Could you not have chosen a more dignified analogy?”

He just laughed softly, shrugged and continued eating. We lingered quite awhile over dessert as he indulged himself in yet another exotic luxury: hot chocolate. I watched him pass the cup beneath his nose and breathe in the aroma, and then nestle it in his hands, and all this before he even tasted it. It must have been a very flavorful drink because the look on his face at the first taste was nothing short of euphoria.

“God damn, this is good!” he cursed softly. “I do believe if Edmund dropped his breeches right in front of me, I’d gladly kiss his arse. The man may have a wandering hand, but he has exquisite taste in food and drink.”

When everything at our table was consumed, Daniel lounged back in his chair, stretched out his legs underneath the table and surveyed the dining room.

“Look at that,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the crowded room full of well-dressed men. A closer look revealed more intimacy than the mere partaking of a meal: at one table, two hands clasped together, not hidden underneath the tablecloths, but on top of the table in clear view; at another, thighs in constant contact with each other; at still another, a swiftly exchanged kiss, and then a return to conversation. “Being a lover of women, you take this sort of thing for granted,” he continued softly. “Not me. I could sit in this chair and watch this all night. It’s beautiful.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Thank you for showing me that something like this exists. I had no idea.”

“I just wanted you to realize that you’re not alone in the way you choose to live your life, that this isn’t some flaw—your word, not mine—in your character, that only you possess.” I dropped my hand from the table and slid it underneath the tablecloth and onto his thigh. I felt his muscles tense underneath my fingers. The need to keep such displays of affection private was deeply ingrained in him, but with the help of a smile from me and a squeeze of my hand, he finally relaxed.

“You’re blushing,” I marveled softly in surprise. A tinge of pink now colored his cheeks.

“No I’m not!” he hissed in annoyance.

“Yes, you are.” I chuckled and moved my hand further up his leg and then down between them. His cheeks turned an even darker pink. “You most definitely are blushing, Daniel Hart.” What fun it was to watch this man who could be so arrogant and cocky, squirm uncomfortably in his chair as my hand gently probed him.

“Damn you!” He pushed my hand away, to which I promptly responded by sliding it back. “My cock is as hard as a cobblestone. Stop! Stop, dammit!” He hissed angrily at me as my fingers continued to explore, but with the blush of arousal upon his face, I knew his anger was more bluster than anything else. The hard feel of him beneath my hand was proof enough that he enjoyed my attentions, even in this public place.

He glared at me with those beautiful dark eyes, and dropped his voice to a low growl. “I swear, as God is my witness, the very moment you change me and I’m strong enough, I’m going to kick your cocky vampire bastard arse from one end of this earth to the other.”

I quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “Sounds like fun. I look forward to it.” I closed my fingers tight around him through the cloth of his breeches. His jaw clenched in response, and he growled softly at me again, to my complete amusement.

“It would serve your cocky arse right if I bent you over this table and fucked you right here in front of God and everybody,” he said with a mischievously evil grin.

“What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?” I asked, laughing softly. I was beginning to discover that teasing Daniel when I clearly had the upper hand was quite enjoyable.

My laughter was abruptly cut off as his hot mouth closed unexpectedly over mine. My initial shock soon gave way to pleasure. His hand snaked down my stomach and to the crevice between my thighs. His fingers closed around me, eliciting a completely unexpected moan from my throat. His lips were very busy reminding me of just how skilled he was at kissing. He paused to get a breath of air, and then continued devouring my mouth.

“Excuse me.” A cultured voice broke through the haze of lust surrounding both of us. “Please excuse me, sirs. A word with you if I may.” A polite clearing of a throat, and then another, slightly louder, plea. “Sirs… _please excuse me._ ”

Daniel pulled away and relaxed back in his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on mine. A smug smile played at his mouth. His heart was thundering in his chest and the sound of his blood coursing through his body was wreaking havoc with my control.

A man was standing over us, not one of the waiters, but obviously an employee of some sort. “Perhaps the gentlemen would like a suite upstairs where there’s more privacy?” he asked, very politely and professionally. If he was offended at our behavior, he displayed no evidence of it in his demeanor.

Daniel was too busy feeling pleased with his cocky self to answer, so I stepped in to smooth things over. “No thank you. We have our own rooms, and I apologize for our behavior. We seem to have misplaced our manners this evening.” The reference to manners was meant for Daniel. He grinned in response to the glare I shot in his direction.

“Very well, sir. But if you change your mind just signal your waiter. He can make the arrangements for you.” He nodded graciously and left.

“Well, that was a very refined kick in the arse.” Daniel chuckled. “And I’m not the one who misplaced his manners. You’re the one who started in with the groping, not me. Let’s just get that straight right now. As a matter of fact, we should probably leave before you 'misplace your manners' again.”

“Now is not the appropriate time for leaving, not when my cock is as hard as _two_ cobblestones laid end to end.” I smirked and then laughed at his reaction.

He frowned. “What is wrong with you? You’re being very playful. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I think it would be best if I got the hell away from you, unless we want to find our arses tossed out into the gutters.” He scooted his chair a couple of feet away and continued to study me with a puzzled frown. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I think it was the comment you made about breaking Edmund’s fingers,” I answered, after I gave it some thought. “I don’t need your protection. I’m perfectly capable of defending my own honor, but the fact that you offered it meant a great deal. Edmund was right about your intense devotion to me. It’s one of your most attractive qualities. I like being the object of your devotion.” Then I added with a fond smile, “And I like teasing you, as well. I find it very entertaining.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he remarked sarcastically. “You just _had_ to remind me that I have but one cobblestone and you have two laid end-to-end.” We both laughed softly at what was quickly becoming a private joke between us. No matter our bodily differences we’d discovered that there was still much to be enjoyed in what we each had to offer. Daniel’s skill at kissing more than made up for his lack of an extra cobblestone, in my opinion, even though he frequently disagreed with me.

“But seriously, Michael, you’re the most fascinating man I’ve ever encountered.” His eyes fixed on mine across the table. While I listened to him explain what I meant to him, I realized that I hadn’t felt such deep love for another person since Asha. “There’s a cold brutality in you that shrivels my bollocks to the size of pebbles. But then you turn around and tend my wounds and care for me selflessly for six days and nights. You wanted to kill me that first night we met, and then you end up being my protector and lover.” He shook his head with a puzzled frown. “There’s this tenderness in you that is in complete contrast with the man who killed that prostitute, and that simply mystifies me. How can two such diverse personalities dwell within one body? Personally, I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that you’re a vampire. I think the complexity of Michael Golland was there from the beginning. I would have been drawn to you even if you had been human like me.

"But trying to gain an understanding of your actions and your emotions is not a simple task, yet it’s a fascinating one. Take tonight, for example. At times, you can be so completely and utterly staid and crotchety. But then, like this evening, you let yourself relax and enjoy life, and it’s a joy to watch. Teasing me gives you pleasure, but making _you_ laugh is what I live for. You don’t do that nearly enough. I think you’re also out of practice when it comes to just having fun.”

It was strange to hear another person describe in such heartfelt detail your personal failings, but when delivered with equal parts of love, like Daniel just had, it left you at a momentary loss for words. “I think I’m out of practice at a great many things,” I acknowledged softly. “But that’s changing, thanks to you.”

We smiled at each other across the table. Daniel’s eyes swept over my face, held my eyes for a moment, and then settled on my mouth. “We need to leave,” he said quietly. “I have a great desire to be close to you tonight.”

“I have that same desire, as well.”

He grinned. “Pull your coat over your two cobblestones and let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

The next day dawned cold and gloomy with a light snow drifting slowly but steadily to the ground—a perfect day for traveling, although Daniel disagreed. Despite his grumbling, he understood our pressing need to be gone from England. We packed our two bags, turned in our keys downstairs, and headed out.

With a few coins we hired a hackney to take us to the outskirts of the city. Once there, a disagreement ensued as to our continued mode of transportation. Daniel suggested a horse, much to my surprise. I dismissed that idea, remembering my promise to never make him ride a horse again. He insisted, as he sarcastically reminded me of how slow his human legs were. We argued this one point in the pouring snow until I finally decided I’d had enough of his ridiculous stubbornness. I stole a horse to shut him up, and dared him to utter a single word about its skittishness. He didn’t utter a word. He was quiet the entire ride, although he clutched at my waist like a man hanging off the edge of a cliff with his fingernails. Secretly, I was proud of him for having the courage to face his fears head on.

We dismounted at the busy docks at Dover; I pulled Daniel and the horse into the shadows of an alley. “Look around carefully. Look for familiar faces.” Dover was the busiest port in England, and the point of exit for most travelers leaving the country, because the distance between England and France was at its shortest here.

“There’s too many,” he said, craning his neck to look over the sea of faces before us. “Maybe we should cross somewhere less crowded.”

His idea had merit. If I were looking for two fugitives from justice, I’d focus my attentions on the nearest and easiest exit. So, Dover wasn’t a good idea. Besides, less faces in a crowd would make it easier to know if we were being followed. We mounted the horse again and headed down the coast to a smaller port. Neither of us saw anyone suspicious, either along the way or at the port. We secured passage on a small ferry and then sent the horse on its way with a slap to the rump.

As to the actual crossing of the English Channel, it was hell for both of us. I was certain that this was one memory Daniel would soon want to forget. The smell of salt in the air, the beauty of the waves and their continual motion, was lost on Daniel as he spent the entirety of the choppy boat ride with his head hung over the side, vomiting into the sea. Watching him suffer such misery was heartbreaking and frustrating for me. I was sure that if Molly were here, she’d have some noxious potion to give him that would take away the sea-sickness, but all I could do was pat his shoulder and offer comforting words, which was completely useless.

By the time we reached the other side of the Channel, Daniel was so sick that I had to physically place him on the back of another stolen horse. I wrapped his arms around my waist and held onto them with one hand, while guiding the skittish animal with the other. His head lolled against my back, and his occasional moans of agony alerted me to his need to vomit. I’d slow the horse long enough to accommodate him and then continue on as quickly as possible.

By the end of the day, as night was closing in, we arrived at our destination. We’d left the snow behind us in England but the air in France was still very cold. I hobbled the horse near the front entrance of Edmund’s house and pulled Daniel from its back. He was too weak to do much more than lean against me. We took a few steps away from the horse and then suddenly he was bent over heaving the clear contents of his stomach onto his boots.

Despite his continued insistence that he was dying, and to just leave him there on the cold ground so he could get on with it, I managed to get the door open and carry him bodily into the dark house. I located the nearest bedchamber and deposited him onto a soft bed. I stripped his soiled clothes from his body and covered him with several thick blankets. I only left his side to bring in the bags, get rid of the horse, and lock the door behind me. I spent the rest of that night watching over him. He slept fitfully at first, but then eventually fell into a deep and undisturbed sleep. His vomiting has finally ceased.

_Welcome to France, Daniel._

* * *

 

“You mean I’m still alive?” Daniel’s first words when he opened his eyes the next day around noon.

“How do you feel?”

“Weak as a newborn calf, and hungry."

“I found something that resembled soup. It’s heating over the fire. But keep in mind, I’m not the cook Molly is."

“I’m so hungry that I’d eat deer droppings if you added some spices to them.” He was smiling. Granted it was a small smile, but nevertheless it was there. I was relieved to see him in good spirits.

“I want you to know I’m not going anywhere near large bodies of water again until you’ve changed me,” he insisted.

“I agree with you.” I helped him eat his soup which seemed to boost his energy level quite a bit. Before too long, he was up out of bed and getting dressed on his own. He insisted on finding the privy on his own, as well. I watched from a window as he searched for it, switching to an opposite window when he disappeared from my view around the side of the house.

When he returned, we explored Edmund’s home. It was luxurious compared to what Daniel and I were used to. Daniel had wooden floors in his cottage, but they weren’t as smooth and shiny as the ones we were currently standing on. Plush rugs, which looked to be the furry hides of various animals, were scattered here and there. Warm wood panels formed the walls in every room, along with thick wooden beams across the ceilings. Heavy woolen drapes in warm brown and gold tones hung at every window and kept out the chill of the winter air. Large pieces of lacquered furniture adorned every room. An enormous fireplace took up one entire wall in the main room, while on the opposite side of that wall an equally large hearth dominated the cooking area. The bedroom that Daniel had slept in the night before was one of five we found in the house. Apparently, Edmund liked to have overnight guests. The well-stocked pantry brought a gleam to Daniel’s eye, while the Grandfather clock in the main room caught _my_ attention. I longed to examine its inner workings, but short of destroying it, there was no way to satisfy my curiosity as to what made the pendulum swing back and forth.

“I think perhaps I need to get rid of _you_ and concentrate on making Edmund fall in love with me.” Daniel grinned crookedly as he fingered the silk-covered pillows scattered on the chairs in the main room. I picked up one of said pillows and launched it at his smirking face. He laughed as he caught it, and then launched it back in my direction, missing me by a continent.

We donned our coats and boots and ventured outside to explore the surrounding grounds. We poked our heads into the stables. A dark brown gelding and a lighter brown mare stared back at us with apparent disinterest. “I’ll care for the mare and you can take care of the gelding,” I said as I shut the stable doors behind me.

“Oh, no. You’re taking care of _both_ of them. I’ll ride the damned things when the need arises but I’m not feeding them or cleaning up their shite.” With that arrogant proclamation, he turned on his heel and walked away from me and the stables.

It was then that a silent alarm screamed inside my head. I heard voices that I recognized, still very distant, but they were steadily moving toward us, and making no attempt to disguise their progress. At vampire speed, I closed the distance between me and Daniel and was now standing in front of him blocking his way.

“Damn!” he shouted, and then scrambled backwards a couple of steps. “You scared the hell out of me!”

I ignored his protestations and hissed for him to lower his voice.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, confused.

I put my mouth close to his ear, and whispered as softly as I could, even though I knew that I could still be heard by those approaching. “If you value your human life, and mine, you must not say another word. We have visitors. They’re almost here, and it’s imperative that you stay behind me and keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”

He pulled back slightly so he could see my face, and the fear I saw in his eyes was genuine. _Good_. I’d gotten through to him. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice just as soft as mine.

“The Volturi. And Daniel, just in case…” I leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. “I love you with all my heart.”

He gasped in alarm when he realized my meaning, but I warned him to be quiet with a silent shake of my head. I turned just as they emerged from the trees and entered the clearing. I motioned Daniel to get behind me. For once, he brooked no argument. He drew in close to my back; I could feel the tension in his body and the fear rolling off of him. His quick breaths blew hot against the nape of my neck, and one of his hands was planted firmly on my back. I only hoped he heeded my warning to stay quiet, because one thing was certain: no one was going to harm Daniel, even if it meant my death.

I scanned the group gliding toward us: Jane in the center, flanked by Demetri and Felix on either side. Jane’s twin, Alec, was following close behind her. Apparently, Marcus, the gloomy one, and also Caius, had been left behind to entertain Aro. They halted their progress as one body, just a few feet in front of us. Jane studied me with those hellish scarlet eyes I remembered so well from our first meeting after Asha’s murder.

“Following in Mariasha’s footsteps, Michael?” A rhetorical question, I presumed, because I wasn’t about to dignify it with an answer. “Is that your human plaything you’re trying to hide behind your back?” She smirked, and the cruelty and violence that dwelled within her was evident for all to see. I hoped that Daniel was paying close attention. This was soon to be his world, after all.

Again I decided not to answer.

“Do you need my help to make your tongue work?!” she spat angrily, her red eyes blazing.

“His name is Daniel, and yes, he’s human,” I said, after realizing that my silence was only serving to escalate her temper.

“He knows what you are?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Then his fate is sealed, just like your poor, unfortunate wife’s,” she replied arrogantly.

I feared greatly for Daniel’s life at that very moment, and so began my attempt to save him. “I’m going to change him very soon. That’s why we came to this place. There’s no need to kill him.”

She shifted her gaze slightly to the right and behind my shoulder. “This is your wish?” she asked, directing her question to Daniel.

When he hesitated a bit too long, I whispered harshly over my shoulder, “Answer her!”

“Yes,” he answered simply without elaboration.

She studied us both. “I think perhaps Michael has used his gift to _convince_ you that that’s what you want." Then she shifted her gaze to me. “Coercing a human into embracing our way of life is extremely unethical.”

My temper flared, but I held it at bay. The Volturi had no basis from which to preach the value of ethics. She was toying with me, like a cat pawing at a mouse before it was devoured between sharp teeth. I held my tongue, even though it took a monumental effort to accomplish it.

“Aro left the decision of what to do with you completely up to me,” she announced, as a smile tugged at the corners of her blood red lips. “And I’ve decided. I think I’ll kill you both.”

My control evaporated in an instant. “You’re a liar!” Her eyes widened at my arrogant outburst. Felix and Demetri took a step forward but she stopped them with a raised hand. I continued before she could launch her own attack against me. “Aro would never leave my fate in anyone else’s hands but his! He wants me, Jane. He lusts for my power. He wants me by his side as part of the Volturi for all eternity, and you can’t stand that! But I warn you, if you kill me, he’s going to be livid!”

“You arrogant…” I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence because her violent gift exploded inside my mind, sending shards of pain outward in every direction. I was aware of Daniel’s arms wrapped around me and his terrified voice speaking to me, but the actual words were lost in the fog of agony that now enveloped my entire body. It stopped just as abruptly as it had begun.

“My God, are you all right?” Daniel’s shaky voice was the first thing I heard as I emerged from hell and back into reality. I nodded and began the process of standing on my own two feet. I hadn’t even been aware of falling to the ground. Daniel helped me stand, even though I didn’t require assistance. I stood up straight and faced Jane. I dropped the arrogance, but my stubbornness was a permanent part of me just like the skin that covered my bones.

“I’ll inform Aro of your decision to change your human toy. Do it soon,” she ordered. “When we return, if he is still human, you’ll receive no mercy. Aro had a soft spot for your wife and let her transgressions go on much too long. That won’t happen again.”

Demetri smiled serenely and winked. “And don’t forget, I’m watching you, Michael Golland.”

With those parting words, they turned and left. I was sure to Daniel it appeared that they’d vanished into thin air, but apparently, Jane was in a hurry to return to Volterra and report back to the bastard who controlled her every move. As soon as they were gone, Daniel’s hands were all over me—my face, my shoulders, arms, everywhere.

“What are you doing?!” I asked.

“I’m checking to make sure you’re not harmed.”

I couldn’t believe he was worried about _me_. Frankly, I was surprised that he was still alive, as I could easily imagine him telling Jane where to go and who to fuck when she got there. Such was Daniel’s temper when it was released without any interference from others. “What did you say to her while she was having fun torturing me?” I asked, almost dreading to hear his answer.

He shook his head. “I did what you told me. I kept my mouth shut and just held onto you for dear life. That is one scary vampire cunt.”

“Yes she is,” I agreed. “Welcome to the vampire world. Are you sure this is what you want?”

With his mind at ease that no permanent damage had been done to me, we started walking back to the house. “This is your world. To be with you, I have to be a part of it. But I can tell you one thing for certain, we’re not inviting that demented bunch to our wedding,” he said, laughing softly.

Once again, Daniel made me smile with his complete disregard for the seriousness of the situation at hand. But perhaps that was his way of dealing with the unpleasant things in his life. It was with great relief that we shut the door to the outside world and let the warmth and comfort of Edmund’s luxurious home surround us like a cocoon. Daniel stoked the fire and added some logs while I stared out the window at nothing in particular. Jane’s words kept echoing inside my head:

_“Aro had a soft spot for your wife and let her transgressions go on much too long.”_

Aro had a soft spot for my wife? Just what in the hell did _that_ mean??


	12. Horses and Hunting

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

 

* * *

 

“The gelding’s name is James,” I said, as I tossed a pitchfork in Daniel’s direction. “Named after the king, of course, and the mare is named Anne, after James’s queen and consort.”

He caught it deftly by the handle. “How do you know that, and what in bloody hell am I supposed to do with _this?_ ”

“We have to clean out their stalls every night or the horses will get sick,” I informed him and then added with a smug smile, “And I actually listened when Edmund talked instead of thinking of ways to tear off his body parts.”

The horses were presently tied up outside the barn, leaving their stalls empty for cleaning. Daniel frowned with distaste. “I don’t see why I have to do this. As fast as you are, you could have these stalls cleaned out before I could spit.”

I began to pitch the soiled straw from Anne’s stall into a wooden cart. “So, you wish for me to be the husband and you the wife? Is that how it is?” I gave a short laugh. “Be gone with you then, dear lady, and go do your laundry. While you’re at it, starch the lace on my collars. Oh, and don’t forget to shine my boots. I’ll take care of the man’s work out here, my dear.”

Daniel’s eyes darkened and narrowed. He smiled one of his arrogant and cocky smiles in my direction. “You are in such great need of an arse-kicking. Don’t worry about me… _my dear_ …I’ll do my part even though you work circles around me.” He turned his back to me and began stabbing at the straw in James’s stall, which I was sure resembled my face at that very moment. I paused to admire the muscles underneath his shirt moving with the shifting motion of his back and arms.

“Looking at my arse again?” he asked without turning around, and then laughed. How did he always know when I was looking at him?? I frowned at once again being caught staring, and then continued on with my work.

When the stalls were clean and strewn with fresh straw, we refilled their feed buckets with oats and gave them more water. Daniel watched in amusement as I knocked down a spider web in the corner of Anne’s stall.

“Should I hang a nosegay in the corner for James? Or perhaps give him a feather-tick and a silk pillow to lie on?” Daniel commented with a smirk.

“Horses don’t like to be bitten by spiders any more than you do, for your information,” I informed him dryly. “I used to care for animals in my human life. Surprisingly, I seem to remember most of the basics.”

We led the horses back into the barn. James followed passively behind Daniel. Anne, however, was a different matter. She obviously disliked me immensely, as controlling her was like trying to make a cat sit still on a hot rock.

“I don’t think your horse likes you very much.” Daniel snickered as he led a passive James serenely back into his stall. “Maybe we should switch.”

“It wouldn’t make any difference,” I muttered. “They all hate vampires, remember? And besides, the gelding is perfectly suited to you.”

He glanced my way and frowned in puzzlement. “Why?”

I tried desperately to hold in my laughter and was mostly successful; only a small inkling of a grin slipped out. “Geldings are terrified of the lassies. I felt you two would make a perfect pair.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Daniel jabbed his hands on his hips and stared me down with those dark, smoldering eyes of his. “I’m not afraid of women, I just choose not to go around poking my cock into them. There’s a big difference there. Your comparison is in error.”

“I think you’re afraid you might like it,” I teased. I grabbed the lantern from the hook and moved to the entrance. Daniel trailed behind me. “I think you should try it once, just to see.”

Daniel shut the barn doors behind him and then caught up with me. “The devil will be shitting icicles the day you find Daniel Hart’s cock inside a woman,” he snarled, which made me laugh even more.

“How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t even tried it?”

“Why don’t you go fuck a sheep?” he asked arrogantly. At my nauseated expression, he continued with a fairly good imitation of my voice. “How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t even tried it?”

I laughed heartily into the darkness. “Touché.”

“I think it’s funny that Edmund would name his gelding James, though.” Daniel chuckled behind me as I unlatched the door and we emerged into the warmth of the house.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because King James was a bugger just like our Edmund,” he answered, nodding and smiling knowingly. “He surrounded himself with beautiful male courtiers. Every single one of them was exceedingly handsome and sleek of form. Esme Stewart, Robert Carr and George Villiars, they were all, every one, his lovers, and him all the while proclaiming sodomy to be an unforgiveable crime. Poor Anne was just his brood mare, put there solely to give him sons. I can’t blame the man, though. It’s what I would do if I were king. You would be my most-favored courtier, my queen in everything but name.” He grinned and winked at me.

I frowned and laughed. “I’m thankful you’re not in line for the throne, then. I’m most certainly _not_ the wig and perfume type.”

Daniel peeled off his clothes and laid them in a pile. “I’m going heat some water and we’re both taking a bath. We smell like horses.”

“I’m a vampire. I have no need of a bath.”

He raised his eyebrow at me. “Vampire or not, you’ll take a bath if you expect to share my bed tonight.” Then he flashed that cocky grin that irritated the hell out of me one minute and touched my heart the next. “I’ll wash your back, and anywhere else you can’t reach. And even some places that you _can_ reach.”

I shook my head and smiled in defeat. The man was completely incorrigible.

* * *

 

“You can’t even begin to imagine how good that feels,” I murmured as Daniel ran his fingers lightly up and down my chest and stomach.

We were lying on the rug in front of the massive fireplace, completely naked, still damp from our bath, and quite relaxed from what had followed after. I was lying flat on my back, and Daniel was propped up on one elbow beside me, with his head against his fist, lazily running his fingers all over my skin.

“What’s it feel like?” he asked.

I sighed. “Like fire. Your touch is hot, like the flame of a candle. Asha loved the heat from my human body.” I smiled at the memory of her exclamations of joy when I’d entered her for the first time. “She had a nickname for me. She called me her ‘English Jomo.’”

“What’s that mean?”

I turned my head to him and smiled, cocking an eyebrow suggestively. “It means flaming spear.”

Daniel chuckled softly and then his breath caught in his throat. “Is that what I feel like to you?”

I nodded and smiled. “Yes. The heat from your body is very pleasurable.”

A soft groan slid out from between his lips. “God, if I hadn’t just got through swiving you, I know exactly what I’d be doing right now, especially after that remark.”

I reached up and stroked my fingers down his cheek. “I’m going to miss that about you, among other things.”

“What other things?” he asked softly.

I ran a finger across his eyebrow. “Your eyes. They’re dark and very beautiful, especially when they flash at me, either when you’re angry or just being mischievous. And your skin. Even though you’re mostly hard muscle, you feel so soft to me. I’m going to miss the swiving, as well.”

“What?” That got his attention. “What do you mean, you’re going to miss the swiving?”

“For at least a year, you’re not going to care about anything but your thirst. Swiving will be the furthest thing from your mind.”

He’d started shaking his head as soon as I’d begun speaking. "No, there’s no chance this side of Heaven that I’d ever be uninterested in swiving, especially with _you_ in the room. I’ll just stuff myself to the eyebrows with blood and then I’ll crawl back in bed with you. We’ll definitely be doing that from the very first day of my change and beyond. You can count on it.”

I laughed quietly as he continued on with his rant, and his swaggering assurances that becoming a vampire would not change his affections for me. “I’m not sure I’d want to swive you for awhile. You’d likely hurt me, or worse, rip off one of my limbs, maybe a very important limb at that.”

“Me hurt _you_?” he asked in disbelief.

“Oh yes. You’ll be much stronger than me for about a year.”

He grabbed my hand that was now lying against his neck. “No matter how much I say I’m going to kick your arse, I’d never really do it. I never want to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I hope you know that.”

“Not even a little bit?” I asked, grinning mischievously.

“Well, maybe a little,” he admitted with a small laugh. “I’d love, just once, to pin your arse to the ground and listen to you beg to be let up, without hurting you, of course.”

“Perhaps you’ll get that chance, especially if I tease you. But I suppose that’s another thing I’ll have to stop, and I’ll most certainly miss it.” I sighed. “It’s a great source of fun for me.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Somehow I cannot picture you giving up your primary means of entertainment.”

“I would never be so stupid as to tease a newborn, not if I cared about living to see the next day.”

Daniel’s playful expression slid from his face as he realized I was completely serious. “I’m really going to be that strong?” he asked in disbelief.

A vision of him as a newly-changed vampire swam into my head. “Yes. You’re going to be that strong, and also very volatile. But, you’re going to be an extremely beautiful vampire as well. You’re already physically attractive and immensely strong. You have a very lively temperament, and all of these qualities are going be enhanced once you’re changed. I predict that keeping the men _and_ women off of you is going to be a time-consuming job for me.”

He shook his head and laughed. “I’m having a difficult time imagining all of this. It just doesn’t seem real, at this point. Just thinking about being stronger than you, as well as fast and never sleeping, and not feeling hungry for food, and hearing things from far away, it sometimes feels like it’s all a dream, but I know it isn’t. I still want this, Michael. I can’t wait to be like you, to be your equal.”

I smiled in response to the wistful tone in his voice, but withheld comment. There was still much that he didn’t know. I’d only revealed the benefits of becoming like me. I’d yet to explain the road he’d have to travel to reap those benefits. It was an incredibly agonizing journey to get there. Three long days and nights of the most horrendous pain he’d ever be forced to endure. Physical pain on a level that was simply inconceivable to the human brain. Asha and Rhodes had spent a very long time explaining it to me, but no amount of time could have prepared me for the reality of it. It was a brutal process. My only hope was that I’d be able to help Daniel by using my gift to ease some of his pain. Asha and Rhodes had had no such luxury with me. Asha hadn’t possessed any exceptional vampire gifts, just the very common one of persuasion with her eyes. Rhode’s gift had been completely useless.

As Daniel grew silent and continued to stroke my body with his fingers, I wondered if he would be strong enough to get through it. But even more worrisome than that was whether _I_ would be able to endure it. Watching him suffer like I had suffered was not something I was looking forward to.

He yawned. “I think I’m going to turn in. Will you come lay with me for awhile?”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

After Daniel had fallen into a deep sleep, I left his side in search of something to occupy my mind. Edmund had a small library in one of the other larger bedrooms, probably his. I examined each leather-bound volume, marveling over the pages and pages of black markings that resembled nothing but scratches in the dirt to me. The most frustrating thing was that I now knew they meant something, and I yearned to know what stories they told. Very few had illustrations, and even those were simple line drawings. Daniel possessed much more talent than whoever had penned the pictures in those books.

When my aggravation at my own ignorance reached an intolerable level, I shut the door behind me and wandered down the hall into the main room, to the clock. Bright morning sun streamed through the windows and onto my feet as I stood in front of the Grandfather clock. The inner workings continued to mystify me; I found myself frequently drawn to it. I was in the process of examining the face for some sort of fastening that might be loosed so that I could peer behind it, when I felt Daniel’s presence behind me. He walked around me and leaned his shoulder up against the side of the clock. His dark hair was sticking out in all directions from sleep, but his eyes were full of mischief, even at this early hour.

“I’ll swing my cock back and forth like that pendulum if you promise to stare at it as longingly as you do at this,” he said, grinning crookedly.

I smiled without bothering to look his way. “I do that already. Quite frequently, in fact.”

He laughed at my response and made a playful grab for my crotch. I saw his intent out of the corner of my eye and was able to easily dodge his hand. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a single-minded focus, and that it lies below the waistband of your breeches?”

“Only around you,” he acknowledged with a laugh. “I never used to be like this. I swear.”

“That statement has as much horse shite in it as those stalls in the barn,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Speaking of which, we have to feed James and Anne this morning, and take them out for some exercise.”

“No four-legged animal is getting breakfast before me,” he pronounced haughtily. He started to leave for the kitchen, but stopped suddenly. “Oh, and if you want my opinion, I think there’s a fairy inside that clock making everything work.”

I glanced at him. He was teasing me, trying to keep a serious expression, but failing miserably. “A fairy wouldn’t fit inside this clock. They’re too large. So is a pixie, and besides, pixies are much too mischievous to stay in one place for very long. It could be a brownie, but I can’t see a brownie having enough time for it. They’re just too busy. No, it has to be something else.”

Daniel’s smile faded. His forehead wrinkled up and the most puzzled look I’d ever seen swept over his face. “What in the hell are you talking about? I was just joking. There’s no such thing as fairies.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Really? Just a few short months ago you thought vampires were superstitious nonsense, and now you’re living with one. You, of all people, should be more open-minded.”

He frowned. “So, you’re telling me that fairies are real? Have you seen one?”

I laughed quietly. “Not only have I seen one, I very nearly got my head ripped off by one. A Guardian. He was protecting a human woman that I was attempting to feed from and ultimately kill. I ran like the devil and barely escaped with my life.”

Daniel scratched his head in confusion. “I thought vampires were indestructible, and now you’re telling me that you, as strong as you are, ran from a fairy? Those fluttery little things with wings??”

“Vampires are strong and fast, but the Fae are not just ‘fluttery little things with wings’. Their Guardians are as large as humans and their magic is very potent. It’s a very powerful weapon and something that should be respected. So yes, I ran from a fairy, or else I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now.”

He shook his head in wonderment and then smiled. “Can you believe that I just, this very moment, fell a little bit deeper in love with you?” he asked rhetorically. “You have to be the most fascinating man I’ve ever met, and I just now realized that I hardly know anything about you. You’ve seen so much, and must have the most interesting stories to tell.”

I smiled indulgently at his naiveté. “Some, but most are not worth the retelling, and some should never, ever be told. Go eat so that we can get on with our chores.”

He finally left to go prepare his breakfast, but not without indulging himself with a great many tender kisses first.

* * *

 

“You have to be very mindful of your tone of voice around a horse,” I instructed Daniel as we mixed warm mush for the horses to eat. “He needs to be able to differentiate between your affectionate voice and your authoritative voice. Also, you want your horse to respect you, but it’s best to accomplish that without instilling fear. There’s no need to be cruel, just firm. They’ll understand the difference, after they get to know you.”

And so went the better part of the morning as I began the process of teaching Daniel how to care for the animal under his charge. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest much. I’d expected resistance from him, but as the morning wore on, I was pleased to see that a tentative attachment was starting to form between Daniel and James. The horse was paying close attention to Daniel’s soft commands, and quite frequently quirked his ears in his direction whenever he spoke. Daniel began to absent-mindedly stroke the animal’s mane and back, and even scratched him underneath his jaw without any prompting from me. As much as he professed to hate horses, he was proving to be a kind and gentle caretaker. Like with me, there was a tender side to Daniel that was in stark contrast with his fiery temper, and it only served to increase his attractiveness in my eyes.

Anne, on the other hand, still hated her caregiver, but neither of us had a choice in the matter. No amount of tenderness on my part would ever change the fear she felt for me. I couldn’t help that I was a vampire, essentially a predator in her mind, nor could Daniel care for both horses by himself. So, like her real-life counterpart had done, she’d just have to learn to endure what life had thrown at her.

“Let’s take them out awhile for some exercise,” I suggested.

Daniel looked at James with a small measure of skepticism. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“Then you can walk him, and I’ll ride Anne, although I’m sure she’ll try her best to unseat me.”

“Now _that_ I’d like to see,” Daniel said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

As fate would have it, he _did_ get to see it. The equine version of Anne obviously had more fire in her than the human one. No sooner had she felt my weight on her back than she’d bucked me off, tossing me onto the cold ground like a sack of grain. I could have held on if I’d tried, but I was fairly sure Edmund would be displeased if I hurt his horse in the process of proving a point. Daniel hooted with laughter for the longest time, until he was holding his sides and complaining of the pain. I shot him a glare, but decided to be a fair sport about it all. I let him have his laugh at my expense, and even gave in and laughed along with him at the end. After we’d let the horses roam awhile we walked them back to their stalls. I showed Daniel how to inspect their hooves for lodged rocks, and how to clean the dirt out of them.

“It’s like caring for a damned babe,” he grumbled underneath his breath, to which I cautioned him to watch his tone. I had to remind him again that James was very sensitive to his voice and would immediately detect any changes.

I very carefully inspected Anne’s hooves, in between dodging her intermittent kicks in my direction. Her ears were laid back, which clearly showed how much she disliked my touching her. Nevertheless, I got the task at hand accomplished and came away fairly unscathed. I smiled to myself as I eavesdropped on the soft conversation taking place just a few feet away.

“Don’t you worry about that female in the next stall,” Daniel said in a soothing voice. “I’ll make sure she stays the hell away from you. We don’t want her getting her hooves into you, now do we? I’ll tell you what a fine lad like you needs. You need another sweet and handsome gelding to keep you company, instead that shrew of a woman next door.” The horse nickered softly as if he could actually understand the nonsense coming out of Daniel’s mouth.

“Think you they’d end up swiving underneath the stars?” I asked him, laughing. “You’re a hopeless romantic. Another gelding would make a fast friend, but I can assure you that your horse does not possess the same desires as his namesake.”

“Pay him no never mind, James,” Daniel said softly as he scratched him underneath his jaw and down his neck. “He likes women, so what can you expect?”

Instead of arguing with him, I simply laughed and reminded him that it was lunch time for humans as well as horses. It pleased me very much to see Daniel forming a bond with James. Perhaps this was a small, but tenuous step in helping to heal the wounds Samuel had inflicted on his soul.

* * *

 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love with that damnable thing,” Daniel grumbled, as he ambled into the main room to find me standing before the clock again. “As much as you stare at it.”

“You seem rather at odds this morning,” I commented, careful to keep my voice neutral. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

He made some sort of gruff, unintelligible noise without answering my question. “Why don’t you just tear the thing to pieces, find out whatever it is you want to know about it, and then we’ll make up some lie about what happened. Edmund has enough money to buy another one.”

“Sometimes the most enjoyable part of not knowing something is the not-knowing. When you finally know, the pleasure is gone.”

He looked at me like a second head had just sprouted from my shoulders. His brows pulled together into a deep frown. “It’s too early in the morning for me to understand what the hell you just said. I’m hungry.” And with that proclamation, he made his way to the kitchen. I listened with one ear as he went about the business of preparing his breakfast. When he finally emerged, after stuffing himself with whatever food he’d discovered in Edmund’s pantry, his normal temperament had returned.

“I think I’ll go hunting today,” he announced. “It looks like it’s going to be a nice day and I have a hankering for some deer meat.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said, turning my attention away from the mystery of the clock.

“Ohhh, no you’re not.” He laughed softly and then disappeared down the hall. When he returned he was fully dressed and had obviously found a bow and a quiver of arrows somewhere in the house.

“In Edmund’s bedroom,” he said, answering my unspoken question about the bow.

“I’d like to go with you,” I repeated.

“Horses are terrified of you, so I imagine deer feel the same way,” he said. “All you’d do is scare away the game. I’ll be fine.”

I was skeptical, but let the matter drop. “We have to tend the horses before you go.” When a frown appeared across his brow, I added, “James depends on you to feed and care for him. That is an important part of building the trust between you and your horse. He has to know that he can count on you.”

“Damn, you’re right,” he swore softly. “I can’t leave the lad with an empty stomach. He needs his strength to fight off that wench who lives beside him.” He lifted his eyes to mine and he chuckled. I smiled fondly in return. Silent signals flew through the air between us, which left us both wondering if the horses could wait a little while longer.

“When I get a hankering for something, I have to have it. Right now, it’s deer meat,” Daniel said. Then he moved closer until his mouth was hovering right next to mine. His warm breath blew against my face, his dark eyes were locked onto mine. “I’ll have my vampire _tonight.”_

His seductive words and the kiss that followed them left me hungry for more than swiving. The burn in my throat was growing more intense by the day. Daniel’s blood-scent was sweet and very tempting. I needed to hunt, and soon.

We donned coats and boots and headed for the barn. We took care of the morning feeding with Daniel conversing softly with James as if he were a gentleman he’d invited over for tea, and me dancing around Anne’s stall just trying to avoid getting kicked. A moment of inattentiveness with my back turned earned me a sharp kick to the back of my calf from Anne. I barked a vulgar curse at her while Daniel laughed his fool head off at me.

“That’s a woman for you. Wait until your back is turned and then she kicks you in the arse,” he said knowingly. Then he rubbed James’s mane. “See James? I hate to say it, but that’s why you’re better off without your bollocks, otherwise they’d be doing the thinking for you, and then that lassie over there would start to look awfully sweet.”

“Are you going to spend all morning giving James advice for the lovelorn, or are you going hunting?” I remarked, and it came out a little testier than I’d intended. I did not like the idea of having Daniel out of my sight, even for a few hours. The sooner I could get him gone, the sooner he’d be back and safe within my reach.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said, chuckling.

We shut the barn up behind us and then he picked up his bow and took off walking. “Are you sure you don’t want company?” I asked on the chance that he might still change his mind.

He turned and sighed. “Stop with the mothering. I’ve been hunting since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I’ll be fine. If I trip over a rock or get lost or something, I can just yell for you and you’ll hear me, right?”

I nodded and then added, “Might you do me a favor then? Would you talk to me while you walk? I won’t be able to answer you, of course, but I’ll feel better hearing your voice.”

He looked at me quizzically, shook his head and then laughed. “Sure, I can do that if it’ll help loosen your apron strings a little.”

I watched him walk away from me until he disappeared into the forest, ironically in the same direction that the Volturi had used in their approach. I clamped down on the flutters of panic I felt all long my spine and went back into the house to wait.

* * *

 

I found myself back in front of the clock again, although it was nothing but an exercise in futility. I’d run through every possibility—from the improbable to the completely insane—as to what made the damned thing work, and I was still flummoxed.

_“Can you hear me, Michael? Damn, I hope so, because let me tell you, I feel like a complete idiot talking to myself.”_

I smiled as I imagined the frown that was most likely etched across his forehead at that very moment. After a few moments had passed he began his rather snide, but humorous, commentary of his progress through the woods.

_“Well, let’s see. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and my toes are already cold. **And** my arse is itching. If I’d brought you along, you could scratch it for me, since I’d much rather have **your** fingers digging around in my arse-crack instead of my own.”_

His cocky laugh and then a rustling commotion that I couldn’t identify.  _“Hell and damnation! I actually tripped over a rock, of all things!”_ Laughter. _“But I’m fine, mother. No need to worry.”_

If the man would have been within my reach I would have boxed his ears for that remark.

_“Edmund’s got himself a nice bit of land here. Makes me think even more that I should toss you out on your cocky vampire arse and head back to The Lavender House and start courting Mr. Wandering Hands.”_

I was beginning to regret asking him to talk, as he was using it as a perfect opportunity to tease the hell out of me without fear of consequences.

_“No sign of deer yet. Walking. Walking. Still walking. Still alive…”_

I snarled softly, but there was no one to hear, certainly not the insufferable man it was aimed at. I listened to a prolonged period of near silence. I guess he’d run out of witticisms to annoy me.

 _“Well, not seeing anything yet, and I need to piss.”_ I heard the unmistakable sound of urine hitting against the ground. _“Guess what!”_ Laughter. _“I just pissed a heart shape on the side of this tree. If I knew how to make those marks that you’re so curious about, I could piss both of our names inside it. Michael loves Daniel. Awwww.....”_

I laughed, despite myself. Only Daniel would find pissing our names on a tree to be endearing. Then there was another rather long period of silence, where all I could detect was the sound of his boots moving along the ground.

 _“Woah, what have we here?”_ I immediately tensed and waited for an explanation. _“I’m done talking. I’m starting to see deer scat now. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”_

I heaved a deep sigh and decided to sit by the fire. My patience with the clock was at its end for the day. I was itching to be out there in the woods with Daniel, to protect him from harm. Hell, I could probably chase down the deer and kill the damnable thing before he could even nock his arrow. But of course, he’d never allow that.

_“Son of a whore! I missed! I can’t believe I missed!”_

He was speaking softer now, but I could still hear the frustration in his voice. Then more silence. I heard nothing except for the soft crushing sound of leaves and sticks beneath his boots as I imagined him creeping stealthily through the trees.

Some of Daniel’s drawings were lying in a pile at the end of the couch, so I busied myself by sifting through them. Many were of me, of course. The man was determined to draw me from all angles, except for upside-down. He hadn’t managed that one yet. I chuckled at seeing an unfinished sketch of the clock. I was surprised to see it rendered so beautifully, considering how much he griped about me staring at it all the time. The nearly-finished one of James brought a smile to my face. Daniel only drew things that meant something to him. I was even more hopeful now that he would bond with the animal under his care, and eventually overcome his fear of horses.

_“Drop it! Drop your bow! NOW! Or I’ll slit your throat!”_

A harsh and loud guttural voice that I didn’t recognize exploded inside my head.

_“You’re trespassing!”_

The moment I heard Daniel’s strangled response, the fear and anger in his voice, I was out of the house and running like the wind, in stockinged feet, and straight toward the sound of his thundering heart. My fury at whoever had dared to threaten the man I loved consumed me as I ran past the trees. The civilized Michael Golland submerged inside of me as the demon in me arose with rage.

_“If you’re to rob me, I have nothing! Check my pockets!”_

It only took me a few moments to find them. I stopped dead in my tracks when I came upon the scene from behind. A large man had Daniel in his grasp with an arm around his waist. Their backs were facing me. Daniel’s bow lay on the ground, along with his arrows. The man’s other hand was hidden from my view. At this point, what I needed to do was circle around until I could see exactly what was going on, and I needed to do it fast. At vampire speed, I moved from tree-to-tree until I ended up hidden behind a large oak and facing them. It was as I'd feared: the man had a wicked-looking hunting knife pressed against Daniel’s neck, underneath his chin. A thin line of blood was trickling down into the hollow at the base of his throat. He’d been knicked. 

I peered around the tree and stared hard at Daniel. I only hoped his uncanny ability to feel my eyes on him would work when I needed it to.

“I have valuables at the house,” Daniel said between clenched teeth. “I’ll take you there and you can have whatever you want.”

It was good plan, but I was one step ahead of him. There was no need to lead the man to Edmund’s house and subsequently his death. Death had already arrived.

“Do it!” the man ordered.

Just before they turned to go back toward the house, Daniel’s eyes found mine. I saw anger in them, anger at himself for being caught unawares by this cutthroat. The fear I’d seen in them began to lessen; his heart slowed its frantic beating. He knew he was safe. Now it was just a matter of accomplishing it without hurting him. I flashed across the space of woods behind them and ended up hidden behind a tree on the opposite side of where I’d been. From this angle, I’d be able to attack the man and push his knife-arm away from Daniel’s body at the same time.

When the man loosed his grip on Daniel’s waist and brought his hand around behind Daniel’s back, I struck. Fury propelled me forward. Rage ripped him away from Daniel and tore the man’s arms from his body. His bleeding and armless trunk flew through the air and landed several yards away. Daniel stumbled backwards and landed hard on the ground. He was alive, but covered in what I hoped was only the man’s blood and not his.

“Are you well?”

Moans from the direction of the man’s body broke the stillness of the forest.

“I’m fine. Dear God, the man’s still alive!” he gasped. “He’s still alive!”

I walked over to where the man lay with blood gushing from the stumps where his arms had been, eyes glassy and unseeing, moans pouring out of his mouth. He wouldn’t be alive long, and I preferred to let him suffer as punishment for trying to harm Daniel. Instead, I drove my foot down into his throat and clean through to his spine. The moans abruptly stopped.

“Not anymore.”

I walked back to Daniel and offered my hand and helped him from the ground. “Are you sure you’re unharmed?”

“I’m fine. He just knicked me.”

As he appeared to be telling the truth, I returned to the lifeless body. I bent down on one knee and began searching through the man’s clothes. A bulging hemline in his coat hid quite a few coins which would come in handy. I ripped open the seam and pocketed them in my own breeches. I rifled through his pants pockets and found a few more coins.

“You’re stealing from him??” Daniel was looming over me, staring in blatant disapproval.

“It’s not like the man is going to be in need of his coins where he’s going. And besides, the man’s a thief himself.” I continued my search along the hems of his breeches and inside the lining of his coat.

“Do you steal from everyone you kill?”

I stopped and stared up at Daniel’s angry countenance. “Where do you think I get my money?” I replied hotly. “Do you suppose I pluck it from the tree branches from whence it grows?? The dead have no need of money, and I do.”

“That’s wrong,” he pronounced in that arrogant way that only Daniel could.

My temper flared to life and burned hot. “Maybe in your world, but not in mine,” I shot back angrily. When I’d found everything of value that the man had to offer, I stood and faced Daniel.

“I’ll go get a spade. I’m going to bury him,” he said, raising his chin in defiance, expecting an argument from me, which I gave him.

“Let the animals have him. It’s more than the man deserves for holding a knife at your throat,” I snarled.

“I’m burying him and that’s all there is to it.”

“Don’t expect me to help you.” I turned and began the trip back to the house.

“Nobody asked for your god-damned help!” he shouted as I walked away. “Where are you going? You have a meal lying right here at your fucking feet and you’re walking away?!”

I whirled back around to face him. I was perilously close to completely losing my temper with him. “Do you honestly think I’d feed from the man who tried to kill you?? What kind of man do you think me??!”

He said nothing, but his eyes were dark and hard and filled with rage. I turned my back on him and ran back to the house alone.

* * *

 

It was near dark before he returned to the house. I was waiting for him, having heard his approach well before he arrived. He stood just inside the door and stared across the room at me. His face and shirt were splattered with dried blood. The hard set of his jaw let me know that his temper hadn’t cooled any more than had mine. He pulled off his muddy boots at the door and then disappeared down the hallway without a word. When he came back, he was in fresh clothes, the old ones wadded up in his hands. Blood still coated his face. The smell permeated the room and burned a hot trail down my throat.

“Wash yourself and burn the clothes,” I ordered.

“I’m a step ahead of you,” he said as he threw the wad of clothes into the fireplace. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a short time later with a clean face and hands. The cloth he’d used also went into the fire.

We stood in the main room and glared at each other. The anger in the air was a living, breathing entity all its own. We each waited for the other one to speak first, but my stubbornness was much stronger than his ability to control his temper.

“You murder people, which is a horrible act in itself, but now I find out that you rob them, too! I can’t believe you’d do that,” he snapped finally. “It’s despicable and wrong.”

“What would you have me do? Settle down on a nice plot of land, plant a garden and raise food that I wouldn’t even eat? Chop wood and sell it to the locals? It’s a pretty picture, but unrealistic. I’m a nomadic vampire. I haven’t stayed in one place for more than a week in over five hundred years. This time with you is the longest I’ve tarried anywhere. I need money to survive, so I take it when the opportunity arises, and sometimes I create the opportunity myself. Vampires are _not_ productive citizens. When will you finally accept that fact?” My voice was calm, but I knew that he heard the underlying anger simmering beneath.

“I refuse to steal from people, just like I refuse to kill them!” he barked angrily. “I won’t do it, and by God, you shouldn’t do it either! It’s beneath you!”

“No it’s not.” I laughed harshly. “Nothing is beneath me, absolutely nothing. I do whatever I have to do to survive, and you will too.”

His lips came together in a hard line. “You’re bound and determined to condemn yourself to Hell and take me with you! And no amount of talking to you is going to make any difference!”

“You think I give a damn about your Hell?!” I shouted back. “I’ve lived Hell! Your imaginary pit of fire doesn’t frighten me!”

“You’re better than this!” he insisted hotly. “You don’t need to do this. You can earn an honest living, just like you can feed from animals. You’re only a predator if you insist on being one!!”

At that point was when my temper exploded. “I am _not_  better than this!!” I spat the words at him across the room. “I am so fucking tired of being held up to your standards!” I moved closer to him, and he held his ground, as I’d known he would. “I. Am. _Not_. Human!!” I shouted in his face. “I don’t live by the same rules you do. Blood is my world. _Blood!_ I’ll never live up to your lofty standards, no matter how hard I might try, and it’s because I’m not like you!! Do. You. Understand?! _I AM NOT LIKE YOU!_ And until you’ve walked in my shoes, you have no right to pass judgment on me! I am _not_  Daniel Hart. I am Michael Golland: a vampire, a killer and a thief! And if you can’t accept me as I am, then this is over!!”

He flinched at my last words, but in my anger, I chose to ignore it. I walked around him and headed for the door.

He whirled around and grabbed at my shirt. “Where are you going?”

“Away from _you,_ ” I snarled, yanking my arm out of his grasp. “Before I end up hurting you.”

“Don’t you walk out that door.” I ignored him and reached for the handle.  _“Don't you fucking walk out that door!!”_ he screamed hoarsely.

I walked out the door anyway, shut it behind me and left. The last thing I heard was a long string of the vilest curses I’d ever heard anyone say, and then a loud crash. I wondered for a moment what he’d broken, but then decided that I didn’t care.

In some ways, I was no different than Daniel, despite my insistence to the contrary. I needed what _anyone_ needed in a relationship with someone else: acceptance. And the person I loved simply refused to give it to me. Daniel would never be able to accept me for what I was. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I ran as far away from him as I could get.


	13. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an advanced warning. I cried my eyes out while writing this chapter, especially near the end of it. Maybe it’s just me and the fact that this story is quickly coming to an end, or maybe it was the content. I’m not sure, but you might want to have something handy to wipe your eyes with. (Or maybe it won’t affect you at all. Everyone is different.)

A friend is someone who walks in  
when the whole world has walked out.  
\- Author Unknown

* * *

 

  
Edmund’s house was dark, except for the dim glow of a light in the main room. I discerned no other sound except for Daniel’s regular heartbeat coming from inside. I tested the door; it was unlocked, which was very careless of him, considering what had happened. I pushed it open and stole quietly into the room, shutting and bolting it behind me.

I made a fast sweep of the main room. Daniel was stretched out on the sofa in front of the fire, sound asleep. A solitary oil lamp provided the only illumination, except for the glow of the coals in the hearth. Papers lay scattered on the sofa and the floor. He’d been drawing, quite a bit if one was to judge by the disarray. He was wearing the same rumpled clothes as when I’d left. Three days worth of dark stubble dusted his jaw, chin and upper lip. His hair was mussed. He looked like I felt. I settled into an armchair and watched him sleep, debating with myself over whether I should wake him. I decided against it. I needed time to gather my thoughts first, time to figure out how to say what needed to be said.

The last three days had been just another wasted trip into the past, just like my useless visit to my home place months before. I’d went south to Paris to hunt, and then on to the southeast, to the outskirts of the city where Asha, Rhodes and I had lived. There had been nothing left of our life there. The brown grass of winter covered the spot where our cottage had stood and then burned to the ground. The huge tree that had once had a swing hanging from its limbs was still there, but the wooden plank with its ropes attached that had served as the seat was long gone, rotted away to dust by the passing centuries.

I’d sat on the ground, in the shadows of the naked trees, thinking that some essence of Asha might still remain. I’d felt nothing, no presence of anything ethereal, no feeling of her anywhere. Nothing. I’d thought perhaps she’d offer me some advice in the ghostly whisper of one who’d passed beyond the physical world into the spiritual, as Daniel believed. I should have known better. She was gone for always. I’d left there with the same thing I’d come with: nothing. There had been nothing for me to do but go back and face things with Daniel.

“Daniel.”

I spoke his name only once and he startled awake immediately. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slowly sat up. “You came back.”

I nodded, but said nothing else. If I’d thought Daniel looked bad asleep, he looked even worse awake. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired, like someone who’d not slept for days. He sat up and planted his socked feet on the floor, resting his arms on his thighs and clasping his hands between his knees. Smudges of black still dusted his fingertips where he’d been drawing. One last glance in my direction and then his eyes were everywhere but on me: the floor, the fire, his hands, the walls. The hesitant and insecure Daniel that I didn’t understand was now sitting quietly before me and studiously avoiding my gaze. We sat this way for awhile: him looking at the floor and me never taking my eyes off of him. Neither of us spoke during those uncomfortable moments that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, I broke the interminable silence.

“You deserve a better life than this.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, still looking at the floor.

“You deserve someone better, someone worth loving. I’m not that person, nor do I think I ever will be.”

The bones in his jaw clenched tight. He drew in a breath. When he finally raised his eyes to look at me, they glistened with tears. "Do you want to end this?” he asked.

“It’s too late to end this,” I answered.

His countenance hardened even as a lone tear escaped down his cheek. “That’s not what I asked you!” he retorted, his voice shaking. “Do YOU, Michael Golland, want to end this?”

“No, I don’t,” I answered simply.

At that, the breath he’d been holding gushed out of him. He buried his face in his hands and wept. My heart ached for him and it was hell to watch, but I forced myself to stand witness to the pain I’d once again inflicted upon him.

“I don’t want to end this either.” He swiped his sleeve across his eyes and nose, and angrily wiped the tears from his face with his hands. “I cry more than a damned babe with the colic,” he muttered bitterly, turning his face away from me in shame.

“I have so many unshed tears inside of me. I wish I _could_ cry. I envy you that.”

He shook his head, not uttering a word. He continued to rub at his face, while still avoiding my gaze. This evasion on his part bothered me immensely. I wanted to look into his eyes as I laid bare my soul.

“Please look at me, Daniel.” I waited until he reluctantly lifted his dark eyes to mine before I spoke. “I don’t want to end this because I can’t imagine leaving without you. My life before I met you was nothing but sheer hell. I’ve had no meaningful contact with another person for five centuries. You’re the first person, male or female, who has shown me any tenderness. I know that I’m probably not the kind of man you dreamed about sharing your life with—a murderer, a thief, someone whose soul is damaged almost beyond repair, a man capable of the most horrendous atrocities you can imagine—but I am what I am, and I’ve been this way far too long to change overnight.”

His eyes saddened. “Damn it all, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through, for judging your every action.” Then he shook his head and laughed bitterly. “I, of all people, should know how it feels to want to be accepted by those you love for who you are, instead of what they want you to be. My mother accepted me, but my father never did, nor did anyone else in that town, except for Molly. And I craved their acceptance, never doubt that. I sat in that church Sunday after Sunday for years and listened to a man preach to me that what I was doing and feeling was wrong. He pronounced judgment upon me like he was God himself, and I’ve been doing the same thing to you.” He shook his head in disgust and looked at the floor. “I’m such a sanctimonious bastard. I know that. But I promise you that I’m going to stop judging everything you do and just accept you for the man you are. You deserve that, just like I deserved it back then.”

“Thank you,” I acknowledged. “That’s all I ask, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll never change. I’ve already changed so much since I’ve met you. I don’t think I ever told you that the night I met you in the tavern was mine and Asha’s wedding anniversary. I was on a killing spree and you were to be my first victim, with many more to follow. But I killed no one that night, and it was because of you. You’ve been such a positive influence on me in the short time I’ve known you, so don’t give up on me yet.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “Of that you can be sure.”

The man deserved so much better than he was getting. His devotion to me was admirable and I wondered if I would ever be worthy of him. But such doubts were best left unspoken. He was back to staring at the floor, as silence once again descended over us.

“I wanted to clarify something, if I might, and I would really like for you to look at me.” His hesitation to look me in the eyes for any length of time was starting to puzzle me greatly. I’d never seen him so unsure of himself, so uncomfortable in my presence. He reluctantly turned to face me. “I don’t want you to think that I’m defending my actions by asking for your acceptance. I’m not proud of them, nor do I embrace my violent nature with open arms. I abhor that part of me that makes it so easy for me to kill others. You must know that my eternal pain is the knowledge that my parents would be so ashamed of the man I’ve become.”

Daniel’s eyes were shining as tears welled up in them again, but he fought them back and turned away from me. “I already knew that about you,” he said, nodding. “And I understand that.”

Then we were back where we’d started. He was staring at the fire and I was staring at his profile. In a sudden burst of illumination, I finally realized the source of Daniel’s discomfort. There was an emotional distance between us now, for some reason. I’d bared my soul to him, but we were no closer for it. Daniel was holding himself apart from me and I needed to know why.

“What’s wrong? Why won’t you look at me unless I ask?”

He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more, but he didn’t answer me.

“What is it? Tell me.”

After an interminably long silence he finally spoke, quietly and without meeting my eyes. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he stated simply.

I frowned at that enigmatic statement. I waited for him to elaborate, but he fell silent again. Apparently I was going to have to forcibly pull it out of him like a doctor prying out a rotten tooth. “What does that mean exactly?”

His jaw clenched in anger. “It means I am not that good man with the strong moral values that you go on and on about all the time!”

I was confused and I was sure my expression reflected that state. I had no idea what the man was talking about. “Just tell me whatever it is and stop speaking in riddles.”

His temper flared. At long last, the Daniel I recognized was coming to the fore. “I’m _not_ speaking in riddles, damn you! I’m telling you that I’m not perfect like you think me to be! I took a long hard look at myself while you were gone, and what I saw was _not_  perfection!”

I waited a few moments for his short burst of temper to cool, and then offered a tentative suggestion. “Might you elaborate on that?”

“I’m arrogant and hot-headed, stubborn and impulsive, but that’s not the worst of it,” he answered.

I couldn’t disagree with any of his observations, but thought it wise to withhold comment. “Go on. What’s the worst of it then?”

Instead of answering me directly, he began quietly telling me of his childhood and the strict moral values in his home, much of which I already knew, but I listened without interrupting. He’d attended church every Sunday until that day he’d refused to go back. He’d been taught the difference between right and wrong at a very early age, and had suffered many a consequence when he’d temporarily forgotten the difference.

“My parents were God-fearing Christians and they taught me well. I could say the Ten Commandments from start to finish when I was just a little thing, and I knew what they all meant, too. ‘You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. You shall not covet. You shall not steal. You shall not _murder_ …’”

His voice trailed off into silence. The word ‘murder’ hung in the air between us. Had he murdered someone in the past? Was this a confession? “Have you killed someone?” I asked hesitantly.

He guffawed softly and shook his head. “No, but I might as well have.”

Another enigmatic statement, but instead of prodding him to continue, I kept silent and waited. He’d tell me eventually. He’d have to, because I was finished with “pulling teeth”.

“God needs to add another commandment just for Daniel Hart,” he said in the softest whisper. He finally raised his head and looked at me, stared me down with those dark eyes burning with shame. “You shall not enjoy watching someone _else_ murder.”

He watched and held my gaze as he waited for understanding to dawn bright as the morning sun upon my face. And it did. I finally understood.

“That’s right. I’ve condemned you for killing people and all the while I’ve kept this secret hidden, even from myself. I was repulsed when you killed that prostitute, but there was a part of me that liked it. Instead of acknowledging that about myself, I kicked you out of my house as if you were entirely to blame for everything. I flew mad at you for stealing from that man, when in reality, I was furious at myself for once again enjoying watching you kill. And God forgive me, but I would have loved to watch you murder Samuel. I probably wouldn’t have admitted that to myself then, but in hindsight, I know in my heart it would have given me great pleasure.”

He’d rendered me speechless. Never would I have imagined such a confession from him. He’d given no indication that he derived pleasure from my violent outbursts. I was shocked.

“You don’t know what to say.” He chuckled bitterly. “Understandable. But now you see why I can no longer pass judgment upon you. I’m not that much better, it seems. I don’t understand why I feel this way, nor would it do any good to spend any more useless hours analyzing it. It just is. I like to watch you kill, especially when it’s in defense of my life. It’s intoxicating. You’re a beautiful killer, and I never thought I would ever utter words such as those and mean them.”

I frowned as an unbidden memory from the past swam into my thoughts, a memory of a long-ago kill, of Asha watching me intently as I’d dispatched my victim, and then a night filled with the most intense and passionate sex I’d ever had with her. “Asha used to call me her ‘exquisite killer’. She said watching me inflamed her passion like nothing ever had before. I didn’t understand it then and I don’t understand it now. Violence is _not_ beautiful.”

Daniel sighed. “Exactly, and I agree with you. I know it’s wrong, but nevertheless that’s how I feel. I would never kill anyone unless forced to, but I sure as hell love watching _you_ do it. That goes against everything I was raised to believe. I’m ashamed of myself, and I was scared to death you’d be ashamed of me too. I didn’t even want to look at you. I was afraid you could somehow see it in me.”

“And you think that changes how I feel about you?” I asked incredulously. “You love me no less, even after all the terrible things you’ve seen me do, correct?”

He swallowed and nodded.

“It’s no different for me,” I stated emphatically. “I’ll admit to being shocked at your confession, but it changes nothing. I am what I am, and you are who you are. I don’t want to end this and neither do you.” I shrugged. “What’s there to do but accept each other’s flaws and move on? If it will help, I’ll avoid killing in front of you in the future.”

He snorted and the irony in his voice was unmistakable. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s pretty impossible to avoid that, considering my arse always ends up on the wrong end of a knife.”

I smiled fondly, even though he’d not meant it to be humorous. “You _do_ have a propensity for finding trouble.”

“You don’t think less of me?” asked the hesitant and unsure Daniel.

“No,” I answered. “And what would you think of _me_ if I were to tell you that I’m flattered by your confession and that it stirs some very interesting feelings in me?”

He shot a startled look in my direction. He frowned deeply and then slowly the frown turned into a smile, and then a quiet laugh. “God, we’re a pair, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” I agreed, adding my own soft laughter to his.

“Everything is well between us?” he asked finally.

I looked at this powerfully built man sitting before me. He was strong in so many ways, but vulnerable in just as many others, so full of contradictions, insecurities, and fears. As was I. We were most definitely a pair, and a very well suited pair at that, despite our quarrels. “Yes, everything is well,” I answered. I hesitated for effect, and then added, “Well…almost everything.”

He grinned, recognizing my imitation of the conversation we’d had in our room in London. “Are we going to check each other’s bollocks to make sure they’re still there?”

“Not right now.” I chuckled. “Actually it has to do with the clock. What happened to it?” Its absence hadn’t escaped my attention and I was fairly sure I already knew the answer to my question, but I felt like teasing him about it.

“Firewood,” was his one-word answer. He slid his eyes to mine. I suppose he was afraid I’d be angry at him for destroying it. “And that pendulum is pretty handy for flipping hotcakes, too.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I saved the parts behind the face so you’d finally know what made it work.”

His thoughtfulness touched me more than he would ever know. Even in the wake of the fury and hurt he must have been feeling at the time, he’d still thought of me. He left the sofa and crossed the room to a small table by the window. He returned with a handful of round metal objects and various fastenings. The wheels were notched, and he showed me how they fit together and turned in unison, thereby making the hands on the clock move, as well as swinging the pendulum. I wondered how long he’d examined the pieces before he’d finally figured it out so he could show me.

“That’s ingenious,” I mused, as I spent some time meshing the notches on the wheels and moving them together.

“So, I guess the pleasure’s gone now that you know how it works,” he said with some small measure of guilt, as if satisfying my curiosity was a grievous sin.

“I’ll find something else to pique my curiosity. I always do.” I smiled to reassure him. “I’m not upset. But, what are we to tell Edmund about the fate of his beautiful Grandfather clock?”

Daniel shrugged. “The truth? We were having a fight. I lost my temper and beat it into pieces with the fireplace poker.” Then he winced at how bad that sounded.

“Or…perhaps we could say that in a moment of intense passion we fell against the clock, and because we were so tightly entwined in each other’s arms, we were unable to break our fall. The clock crashed to the floor with us on top of it. It was hopelessly damaged, but the swiving was extremely good.” I wiggled my eyebrows and grinned.

He laughed heartily. “What an incredible liar you are, Michael Golland!”

“I think he’ll be more apt to forgive us if he thinks that sex was involved. What do _you_ think?”

He gave me a look— _our look_ —that special look that always made both of us break out into chill bumps all over. “I think we should give some truth to the lie," he said softly.

The kiss was gentle at first, and then it turned into nothing but raw, hard need on both our parts. When we pulled away from each other, we were both stunned at the intensity of it.

“I should shave.” His soft words sent a rush of warm breath over my mouth.

“You _are_ a bit prickly,” I agreed.

He smiled and kissed me some more. “One last thing. If this happens again…” Then he stopped and corrected himself with a dismayed smile. “I mean, _when_ this happens again, please don’t leave. Even if we tear the place apart in our anger, I’d rather do that than have us separated from each other again. I hate it when you leave. Promise me.”

I gathered him into my arms and held him tight. “I promise,” I whispered into his ear.

* * *

 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” he asked. He was perched on the edge of the sofa with a pan of warm water sitting by his side, and shaver’s cream spread all over his face. I was kneeling in the floor holding the mirror for him, as he held the straight razor next to his skin. He’d yet to make the first swipe with it.

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” I said.

“But what if I cut myself? Are you going to pounce on me like a duck on a June bug and drink me dry?”

I was highly affronted at his insinuation that I had so little control over my bloodlust. His playful smirk was the only thing that saved him from a blow to the side of his head, which, with Daniel’s luck, would probably have resulted in him slicing his own throat. Daniel and blades, like oil and water, did not mix well. “I think I can control myself.”

He grinned at my snide retort and commenced the careful job of shaving. I watched the slow movement of the straight razor as it scraped across his jaw and figuratively held my breath that it wouldn’t slip, or dig too deeply into his skin.

“I have a thought,” he blurted out suddenly, as he rinsed the hair and cream off of the razor. “I think that after I get done shaving you should change me. I don’t know what in hell you’re waiting for anyway.”

A jolt of something that felt very much like fear shot through me, but I managed to hide it from him and continued to hold his mirror steady. “There are still some things you need to know first. You’re not ready.”

His eyes flashed at me, a sure sign that the rebellious part of Daniel was rearing its ugly head. “I know that all of my senses will be enhanced. I won’t need to eat, sleep or breathe. I won’t be able to go outside in daylight unless there are clouds overhead. I know that I won’t truly be immortal, since I could be killed by another vampire…or a fairy.” At that last remark, he smirked. I should have never told him that. I felt certain that I would hear about it for centuries to come. Then his smile faded. “I’ve met those lunatics you call the Volturi. I know I will never have children or grandchildren of my own, and that everyone I knew from my past will eventually be gone. I know everything I need to know.”

“It hurts,” I said simply. The pain involved was the one thing he knew nothing of, nor was I sure that I could effectively explain it to him, but I owed it to him to try.

He laid the razor down in the pan. “Doesn’t everything worth having in life eventually hurt you at some time or another?”

I shook my head at his naiveté. “It hurts a great deal. In fact, it’s excruciating.”

“Then that just means that it’s really going to be worth having,” he insisted stubbornly.

“You have no idea what you’re saying!” His nonchalance about the whole thing was infuriating.

He said nothing in response; he just sat there considering me with those unfathomable eyes. “I know you. You’re afraid. What are you afraid of?”

Damn the man. He did know me, all too well. “I’m putting it off because I have no desire to watch you suffer and know that it’s because of me.” There. I’d laid it out for him to plainly see. The weakness was not in _him_ , it was in _me._

He seemed surprised. “Oh. I had no idea. I thought it was because you thought me too weak to handle it or something like that.”

“No,” I said, laying down the mirror. I arose and turned away from him. “I just don’t want to be the one to do it. Sometimes I wish I could find some random vampire to do it for me, someone who hasn’t a care in the world for you. I could come back three days later and it would all be accomplished, without any suffering on my part or yours. It’s cowardly and unrealistic, but that’s the long and short of it. That’s why I’m delaying things.”

He got up and walked around me until we were face-to-face. “But postponing it won’t change anything, except it might get us both killed. That red-eyed bitch is going to come back sooner or later, and I’d better be a vampire when she does. We can’t afford to wait any longer. Change me.”

He was right; we couldn’t afford to wait. Where the Volturi was concerned, time moved at its own mysterious pace according to Aro’s whims. They might return tomorrow, or next year. One had no way of knowing. I was gambling with both our lives by letting my cowardice rule the day. I nodded my agreement.

“Tonight?” he asked.

“No, not tonight.” I drew him in close to me and stroked a finger down a part of his face that was not covered in shaver’s cream. “I’ll change you tomorrow. I promise. Just let me have one more night with you as a human.”

“My God,” he breathed softly. “How could I refuse a plea such as that? You’ll have your night, my beautiful Michael.” He grasped my face in both his hands and kissed me hard. Cream from his upper lip got into my mouth and his, leaving us both sputtering and spitting and laughing at our own stupidity. “Let me finish shaving this shite off my face,” he muttered. He was as impatient as I was to retire to our bed for the night.

I held the mirror as he hurriedly scraped away the remaining stubble. Minutes later, a clean-shaven and mischievously smiling Daniel tugged at my hand and pulled me down the hall to our room.

* * *

 

Despite the heat in our earlier kisses, we took our time. We had some things to prove to each other this night: that we’d completely let go of our anger, that we’d accepted the other’s failings unconditionally, and most importantly, that the harsh words spoken between us hadn’t lessened the love we felt for each other.

I cherished those last hours with him. I held his warm human body in my arms until he shivered and was forced to move away. When he finally returned to my embrace, we gave of ourselves without holding anything back. I reveled in the soft feel of his human skin beneath my hands, the heat of his body searing against my mouth where ever it touched. I threaded my fingers through his short-cropped hair and tightened it in my fist as our passions grew. I spent a great deal of time staring into his eyes. I silently grieved the impending loss of those dark glittering jewels of brown that would soon turn scarlet. I drank in his scent, breathed it deep into my body, and groaned at the beautiful burn it sent scorching down my throat. Daniel was just as generous with his affections in those hours. He was very tender with me and only became rougher when our passions grew close to their peak.

We spoke not a word to each other the entire time, not even a whisper. It was if we both sensed that we were saying goodbye to something important, and neither one of us wanted to speak of it aloud. We knew that what we had now would soon be gone, transformed into something completely new and different once he opened his eyes to the world as a vampire. So we said our silent goodbyes to this part of our lives in those dark quiet hours in the night.

After it was over, he fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion. I lay beside him and studied this man who had literally transformed my life, and all because he’d been attracted to me and had wanted simply to take me to his bed for a harmless night of swiving. Neither of us had been prepared for the relationship that had grown out of that one chance encounter. We’d been two people suffering from loneliness and isolation who’d met each other at exactly the right time. I sometimes wondered if there truly was some great omnipotent being controlling it all, but I’d seen too much in my life to believe such nonsense. In the end, I was grateful for whatever force had caused the two of us to cross paths. Our loneliness was done.

As morning dawned bright and clear, I gently roused Daniel from sleep and pulled him into my arms once again. Breakfast was very late.

* * *

 

“You’re stalling.” Daniel was following close behind me as we crossed the clearing to the barn, haranguing me the entire way. “You could have taken care of the horses while I slept. You’re just putting things off again.” I ignored him, which only served to spur him on. “This is ridiculous! We’ve already wasted half of the morning!” A string of muttered oaths flowed out of him as I slid open the barn doors.

“So, our lovemaking at dawn was a waste of our time?” I asked innocently. I knew what he’d meant, but he was irritating me with his pestering, so I was picking at him in return.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said, annoyed. “That breakfast you prepared me was fit for a king. So much food, not even an entire village could have eaten it! And now, we’re out here pampering these horses??! Are we going to prepare them a banquet as well, and spend half the day watching them eat it?? I know what you’re doing. You’re delaying this as long as possible.”

I crossed the barn to Anne’s stall and then turned to face him. He’d joined James and was absent-mindedly stroking his mane while glaring at me. I truly wished I didn’t have to say what was about to come out of my mouth, but it had to be said. “You need to say your goodbyes…to James.”

It took a few moments for Daniel to understand my meaning, and the shock that registered on his face tore my heart into shreds. I’d brought him here to say goodbye to the animal who had helped in some small part to heal the wounds from Samuel’s abuse. It was going to be painful for him to do, but I’d much rather him do it now than later, when his newborn emotions would be too volatile to handle it.

“I wanted you to have some time with him before you’re changed,” I said quietly. “He’ll be just like Anne after that. He’ll be terrified of you. Things will be different between the two of you three days from now.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he moaned softly. He leaned his head against James’s neck. The horse nickered softly and dipped his head. “I didn’t even think about that.” Even though I couldn’t see his face, I heard the tears in his voice. He wrapped his arms around James’s neck as far as he could reach and wept. The horse stood passively and allowed Daniel to embrace him and cry against his body.

I turned my back to them, as helpless fury overtook my mind and spirit. Watching them just hurt too damned much and struck too close to home to suit me. His anguish was my anguish at that very moment. I only turned back around when I’d sensed his crying had stopped. He rubbed James’s back in long, tender strokes while looking sadly at me across the stalls.

“This hurts you as much as it does me.” A simple statement of truth, and spoken by a man who knew me almost as well as he knew himself.

“Yes,” I conceded. “I grew up on a farm, and took care of animals all of my human life. There isn’t a greater or more loyal friend to a man than his horse. When I discovered that animals feared me, I was devastated. No one had prepared me for that. Aside from not having a family, it’s one of the greatest sources of sadness in my life. I didn’t want you to be blind-sided by this like I was.”

Then I began the inevitable dance around Anne’s kicking feet, filling her oat bucket and refreshing her water. Daniel did the same for James, in complete silence. I sensed that he needed time alone, so I finished things up in Anne’s stall in record time and made for the door. “I’m finished, so I’ll just wait for you at the house.”

Daniel nodded and voiced no objections to my leaving. I was in no mood for a leisurely walk across the field. I wanted away from that barn as fast as I could go, so I shut the barn door behind me and almost instantly found myself standing on the stoop of Edmund’s house. I slipped inside and settled on the sofa in front of the fire to wait. I really had no desire to hear anything from inside that barn, but found myself unable to block out the sound of Daniel’s voice:

_“Nothing like fresh oats for breakfast, eh James? Personally, I prefer just-laid chicken eggs and slabs of fried pork fat. But to each his own, I always say.”_

A half-hearted laugh from Daniel and then a long silence as James lazily munched his breakfast.

_“I know you can’t understand a word of this, but maybe, like Michael says, my tone of voice will be enough. You’re a fine lad, James. Did you know, I used to despise horses? Just the smell of them made the contents of my stomach churn and I’d nearly always end up with my lunch on my boots. I never rode one after age 14. It’s not important for you to know why, just that I walked everywhere so I didn’t have to touch one. Probably would have gone my whole life without touching one if it hadn’t been for Michael._

_“I know Anne hates him and you probably would too, if he’d ever get close enough to you, but he means you no harm. He’s just different than me, and he can’t help it. He’d never hurt an animal, and neither would I.”_   Soft laughter. _“I’ve swived the man more times than I can count and he’s never once hurt me. So, I know he’d not hurt either one of you.”_

I smiled despite the seriousness of the conversation. Swiving was never far from Daniel’s thoughts, even in times of great sadness or stress. It was endearing.

 _“The reason I’m telling you about Michael is that…well…I’m soon to be like him. It’s what I want, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. So, don’t think anyone is pressuring me, because they’re not. It’s just that a man gets lonely sometimes, James. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you only have that hateful female for company.”_ A quiet laugh. _“But when that special someone comes along and you know you can’t go on without them, you’ll do anything to stay with them. Usually it’s getting married and maybe moving away from your family, or some such ordinary thing. But with Michael, it’s a little more complicated than that. I’m going to be changed into someone different, and…”_

At that point his voice hitched and he stopped speaking. I listened to James’s rhythmic chewing for quite a long time, as Daniel fought to compose himself.

_“I’m going to be different the next time you see me. You’re not going to like me anymore. You won’t be able to help yourself, so don’t feel bad if you kick me. I’ll understand. Just know that I won’t hold it against you. It’ll be hard to see you afraid of me, but I’ll just have to come to terms with it. With all great joy comes some pain, as my mum used to say.”_

I dropped my head into my hands and wished for deafness. Never had I regretted the acuteness of my vampire hearing as I did at that moment.

 _"I just wanted you to know that I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. I know you’re just a horse, and you can’t understand anything coming out of my mouth, but I still need to tell you. I can touch a horse now without getting physically sick, so maybe that scab is getting closer to falling off. I think when I can finally lay down in the straw and swive a man on a barn floor, I might be completely healed, and that scab will be gone forever. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to that point, but you’ve given me a good start.”_ Daniel sniffed loudly, and I heard the sound of his fingers scratching against James’s body. _“Never in my wildest imaginings did I ever think I’d call a horse my friend. Or a vampire, for that matter. Life sure is strange sometimes…”_

Another long silence. _“Well, my new life is waiting for me back at the house, so I need to get on with it. But I need to take back something I said to you earlier. I said you were better off without your bollocks, but that’s not true. If one of Michael’s fairies could come along and give them back to you with their magic, then Anne would make a fine mate for you, even if she is a female. I’d rather see you with **her**  than with no one at all. No one should have to spend their life alone, not even a gelding. Especially if there’s someone just within their reach that can give them all the happiness they deserve. I could have chosen someone else other than Michael. Hell, I even had a lassie of my own who would have married me in a heartbeat, but I didn’t love her in that way. You just can’t help who you fall in love with. It’s as simple as that.”_

I heard a series of pats and comforting noises from Daniel.

_“I’ll come visit you as soon as I can, even though you won’t enjoy it. Michael will take good care of you while I’m gone. Try not to kick him too awfully hard.”_

I sighed at hearing the barn doors slide shut. Daniel was on his way back to the house and I’d run out of time. There was no going back now. The front door opened and Daniel stepped inside. He immediately found me on the sofa and our eyes met across the room.

“I’m ready,” he said.

 


	14. The Change

A new start  
With hammering heart  
We color the world with our dream  
Nothing is as it did seem  
The darkness of my solitude is done  
[He] - my rising sun.

\---excerpted from the poem “Love Survives” by Robert K. Charron ₁

* * *

 

  
“At first, you’ll have no feeling in your body. The venom initially numbs everything it touches. Only the area around the bites will burn, but that doesn’t last long.” We were standing face-to-face in Edmund’s bedroom, just beside the large feather tick bed. Daniel’s dark eyes were riveted to mine and he was listening intently as I tried to describe what awaited him. “Then, you’re going to feel like you’re burning alive from the inside. Everywhere. Not even the smallest part of your body will escape the fire of the venom as it spreads.”

He swallowed hard. “Are you trying to scare me so I’ll change my mind?”

“Not at all. I’m trying to prepare you for it so it won’t be such a shock,” I explained, and then without waiting for his response, I continued. “You’re going to wish for death. You’re going to pray for someone to just plunge a dagger into your heart and end the torture. And I also wanted you to know that I’ve never done this before. Asha and Rhodes explained the process to me in great detail, but I’ve never actually done it. I’m going to try and use my gift to help you with the pain, but I’ve never used it for something as intense as this. It may not be strong enough. Frankly, I have no idea if—”

“Michael, _stop,_ ” Daniel interrupted softly. “Just stop.” He cupped my face in both of his hands and stared into my eyes. “I understand that you’ve never done this before, and I know you’re just trying to ease my mind, but just… _stop._ Do whatever you can to help me, but if it doesn’t work…” He shrugged. “Always remember that I asked for this. Nothing is being forced upon me. So, don’t feel guilty for anything that happens, and don’t think for a minute that I’m looking forward to the pain, because I’m not. But it has to be done, so I’ll do it. I’m strong. I’ll get through it just fine. So just—” He smiled and then kissed me lightly on the lips. “—stop with the mothering.”

I chose to ignore his remark and instead pulled his hands from my face. “One last thing. I want you to know that there’s no shame in screaming or crying. I did both, and much more. I won’t look upon you any differently for anything you say or do in the next three days.”

He said nothing in return. He didn’t have to. I watched the first glimmer of fear rise up in his eyes, but within a matter of moments, it was gone. He’d clamped down on it and squashed it like a tiny insect underneath his boot. He was such a courageous man. I’d never met his equal in the human world in my entire five centuries as a vampire.

“I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”

“Take off your clothes.”

His eyebrow cocked up in mischief. “One last swive for good luck?” he asked, grinning.

I shook my head in amused resignation at his single-minded focus, even in the face of what awaited him. “You’re not going to want anything touching your skin.”

“Oh…sorry.” He chuckled and hurriedly stripped down to his bare skin. He tossed his clothes to the side in an uncharacteristically messy pile and then turned his attention back to me.

Despite his impatience to get things started, he kept quiet and allowed me to spend a few precious moments brazenly running my gaze over his nude body. I wanted that one last image of him as a living, breathing human: his strong, muscular body so different from mine; wide shoulders that could wield an axe with ease; his thick thighs that flexed so nicely beneath his breeches; his complexion flushed from the blood still rushing through his veins, which were clearly visible through his translucent skin; the dark line of hair that started just beneath his navel and continued down to his…

“I have a question.” His voice startled me out of my contemplations, which frankly had distracted me to the point of forgetting what I was doing. I raised my eyes to his and was met with his characteristic cocky grin. “You said everything will be enhanced—my eyesight, my hearing, my strength.” I nodded silently in agreement. “Well, I was just wondering, will my cock be enhanced as well?”

He laughed at me, no doubt at the expression of utter disbelief that must have been on my face at that moment. Could the man take nothing seriously?? I rolled my eyes and sighed in frustration. “No. It’ll just be harder.”

“Damn,” he cursed softly and then laughed. “Oh well. But you can never be too hard, right?”

“You are completely inc—“

“Incorrigible. I know.” He smiled and laid his hot palm against my cheek. “It’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be all right. I can feel it.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him. I’d never experienced this process from an observer’s perspective. I’d been much too immersed in the pain of my own change to have any understanding of what Asha and Rhodes had gone through.

“I’m all out of small talk, Michael.”

I nodded and drew him against me. He slid his arms across my waist and around to my back. I cradled the back of his head in my right hand, my fingers threading into his cropped hair. My other arm came to rest on the small of his back. I closed my eyes and began the process of letting the civilized Michael Golland slip away…just a little. Control was of the utmost importance, as Asha had emphasized over and over again. It had to be loosened just enough to let the thirst grow and the venom flood into the mouth, but still kept tightly reined in enough to prevent the bloodlust from taking over and resulting in final death. A delicate balance.

The warmth of his body sent heat through the fabric of my clothes. I breathed in his scent, long, deep breaths that filled me with the heady perfume of his blood. His heart hammered in his chest, a rapid and strong beat that called to the demon inside of me. I touched my lips lightly to his neck, and felt him tense in my arms. “Not yet,” I whispered against his skin. I felt his body relax against mine once again.

I laid my lips against the artery in his neck, thrilling to the feel of the blood pulsing through it, anticipating the taste of it in my mouth, the slick slide of it down my throat. I raked my teeth gently across it and moaned at the sensations it sent rippling through my body.

“Michael.” Daniel squirmed and pulled back so he could look at my face. I struggled to bring myself back into focus so that I could intelligently respond to whatever he was about to say. It was proving to be difficult. His eyes searched my face and I cringed at the thought of what he saw there. “You’re hard,” he whispered in astonishment. “And you’re trembling. My god, you’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I stammered, ashamed that in the face of the enormous pain that awaited him there was great pleasure to be had for _me._

He grabbed roughly at my face and forced me to look at him. “God, you are so…you’re so…Jesus fucking Christ, you’re such a beautiful man.” He dug his fingers into my hard skin and crushed his mouth onto mine with a force that shocked me. His heart was pounding out of his chest, which sent the venom flooding into my mouth. I pulled away first before his tongue could snake its way between my sharp venom-coated teeth.

I started to speak, but he laid his fingers across my mouth. “I don’t want to hear whatever it is you’re about to say, especially if you’re going to apologize again. Listen to me. I don’t care if I’m screaming and fighting you, cursing you and begging for you to kill me. I don’t care. Take your pleasure from this without guilt. Do you hear? You’re giving me the gift of being with you forever, so this is my gift to _you._ I want you to enjoy every bit of it that you can. Promise me.”

I nodded and then pulled him back into my arms. Before he could prepare and tense his body, I bit deep into his neck. A strangled cry of pain got stuck in his throat as he bravely held it in, but the sound of it soon faded into the background as his blood rushed into my mouth. It was so sweet. Luscious and thick. Hot and silky. The taste of it, the feel of it sliding sensuously down my throat brought my release, hard and quick. I moaned as pleasure coursed through my body, along with the rush of his blood into my mouth. Trembling, I pulled away and licked the wound to seal it.

“It’s burning!” he gasped painfully.

The beginnings of the agony that lay before him had started. I guided him back onto the bed and gently laid him down. He offered no resistance. The numbness he was currently feeling in his arms and legs would soon be gone, therefore I needed him in a prone position where I could control him, if need be.

I raised his wrist to my mouth and bit, drinking only a small amount before sealing the wound. I repeated the same with his other wrist. The more bites, the quicker the venom would spread. Before the numbness could wear off, I delivered two final deep bites to his inner thighs near his groin. He moaned, but didn’t fight me as the blood poured into my mouth. I wanted to stay there forever, drink until I was satiated, drink until there was no sign of life left in him. The overwhelming urge to drain him was so very powerful, but I fought it with every ounce of willpower I possessed. _You love him! Pull away! Now! Pull away!!_ I groaned painfully as I let his blood pool in my mouth. I closed my eyes and let it slide down my throat, enjoying those last moments of pleasure that I would never feel with him again. I licked the wound and pulled away from him with regret, regret at having to stop, but mostly regret at the knowledge that the worst was yet to come.

His heart was thundering as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, but it wasn’t a thing of beauty to hear. It was the hard incessant thrum of pain I was hearing, the sound of his torment that pushed all ordinary noise out of the room. His body suddenly arched up off of the bed; a choked scream of pain just barely made it out from between his clenched teeth.

I scrambled forward and straddled his hips, placing my hands onto his shoulders to hold him down. Asha had confided to me afterwards that I’d fought her in the beginning, even though I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t scream or cry or do anything to make her feel guilty for going against her better judgment and changing me. In the end, I’d been unable to keep my promises and I expected the same would be true for Daniel. He thrashed underneath me as the venom began to spread it flames throughout his body. I pinned him to the bed with my thighs. My fingers dug dangerously deep into his shoulders, but that pain was negligent compared to what he was enduring now.

Soon, his attempts to keep his torment contained inside of him failed. Every agonizing scream that tore out of his throat ripped out a piece of my heart with it. I wanted to use my gift immediately to ease him if I could, but I remembered Asha’s words from long ago: ‘The venom flies upon the wings of the heartbeat. The swifter, the better.’‘ If I eased his pain too soon, his heart would slow and the entire process would become longer than it needed to be. I analyzed everything Asha had told me and came up with an arbitrary time of five minutes, just to be safe. If I could manage to stand witness to his agony for five short minutes then I could use my gift to try and help him. It was the longest five minutes of my life. My lover, my friend, my constant companion for these past months—a man who could have me frustrated and angry enough to kill him one minute, and then laughing at his ridiculous antics the next—screamed in searing pain and fought me viciously. Even though I’d warned him of this, and I myself had known it was coming, it left me heartbroken and heavy with guilt that I’d brought such agony down upon him.

The seconds ticked away until they finally became five minutes. “Daniel, open your eyes! Look at me!”

He shook his head side-to-side and screamed at me to leave him alone. I grasped his chin in my hand, not caring if I hurt him, and forced him to focus on my voice. “Daniel, open your eyes so I can help you! I can help you with the pain, but you need to look at me!”

It took several attempts before I finally coaxed him into opening them. As soon as I saw a sliver of brown in between his reddened lids, I brought the full force of my lesser gift to bear on him. I held his face fast in my grasp and sought out his mind. His pain and the panicked chaos inside of it nearly overwhelmed me, but I pushed it aside and focused. “The pain is leaving, Daniel. It’s fading away.” I repeated those same words over and over again.

“It’s _not_ leaving!” he gasped harshly and then choked down a scream.

I felt a momentary stab of panic. If I couldn’t help him, I’d never make it through the next three days. I’d lose my sanity. “The pain is _lessening_. It’s lessening, Daniel.” If I couldn’t make it completely leave then perhaps I could bring it down to a level he could at least tolerate. I repeated the mantra over and over until I felt his body relax underneath my hands. His heart finally slowed to a near normal level. “Has it lessened?”

A tear slid out of the corner of his eye and dripped off his face. “I can handle it,” he whispered painfully, and with the stubborn determination that only Daniel possessed.

A powerful feeling of relief swept away all of the tension and fear in me. I could help him, at least a little, which was more than Asha and Rhodes had been able to do for _me._ I slid off of him and sat down beside him on the bed. I wanted to hold him, or at least lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, but I knew from experience that touching him would give him no comfort at all.

Suddenly, he drew his legs up to his stomach and curled into a tight ball. He crossed his arms across his chest like he was hugging himself. “Talk to me,” he whispered hoarsely.

And those were the last words he spoke aloud for a very long time. I sat beside him and talked quietly of faraway lands. I told him the stories my father had told to me all throughout my childhood. I knew that he listened, even though he gave no indication of it. Asha’s voice had been a comfort to me throughout my change, letting me know that I hadn’t been alone. So, I talked, while Daniel silently suffered. Tears occasionally slipped out underneath his closed lids and slid down his cheeks while I spoke of Egypt and pyramids and lost pharaohs. I longed to wipe them away, but refrained from touching him until finally I could stand it no longer. He flinched as my lone finger very tenderly wiped away a tear that had just begun its long journey down the side of his face.

“You’re doing very well. It’s going to be all right.”

In answer, he carefully released one of his arms and slowly lowered it to the bed. His hand came to rest on the blanket. I watched in awe, astonished that he could even bear to move. His index finger rose up in the air and I stared down at it in shock. He wanted to hold my hand. I couldn’t believe it. Just the slightest touch on my skin had sent spasms of pain through me during my own agonizing three days, and here Daniel wanted me to hold his hand! I gently slid my fingers underneath his, thinking I’d grasp his hand very lightly in mine. However, a small, miserable whimper from him had me quickly pulling back. I experimented until I finally found a level of contact that he could tolerate. I spent the next four hours talking to him with the tip of his index finger just barely touching the tip of mine.

And so the hours passed. On the fifth hour, when his silent tears had turned to low moans, I used my gift to ease him again. And during it all, I talked. When the pain began to worsen and I doubted that he heard much of what I was saying, I still talked—on and on, one tale after another, some from my father and some from my own experiences.

Very late on the first night, I realized that I had a quandary on my hands. The horses had to be fed and watered and I was loathe to leave Daniel’s side. Just the thought of him thinking that I’d abandoned him to suffer alone left me paralyzed with indecision. But, on the other hand, if I failed to care for his horse, Daniel would most likely take my head off at the first opportunity, and he’d be strong enough to do it, too.

“Daniel.” I leaned in close and spoke softly. “I have to leave your side for a bit to tend to the horses. I’ll be quick about it, don’t worry, but if you need me, just whisper my name, or if you can’t do that, just moan. I’ll hear you.” I sighed in frustration at how bad that sounded. “I’m sorry. I truly don’t want to leave you, but I can’t let them go without food or water.”

The tiniest whisper of an answer drifted out of his mouth, and would have been inaudible to an ordinary human’s ears. “Go.”

“I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

Before leaving for the barn, I changed out of my soiled clothes and cleaned myself. In the space of a few minutes, I was dressed in fresh clothes and opening the door to the barn. Anne became restive as soon as I stepped inside. I skirted my way around James’ stall, keeping as far from him as possible, and made my way over to Anne. We danced around each other, keeping as much distance between us as we could, considering the small space we occupied together. I hurriedly filled her oat bucket and refreshed her water while avoiding her hooves. I dispensed with the idea of mucking out stalls, deciding that I didn’t have the time _or_ the inclination to bother with it. I’d kept an ear tuned to the house as I’d worked, but had not heard a single sound of distress from Daniel. Nevertheless, the quicker I got this done, the better I’d feel.

 _Time to feed James._ I approached his stall with a great deal more caution than I had Anne’s. He was a much bigger horse, capable of dealing a considerably more painful blow to my body with his powerful hind legs. He couldn’t seriously hurt me, of course, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have the devil kicked out of me by a rock-hard hoof. I backed up against the rough boards of his stall and very carefully sidled my way inside. Step by very slow step, I made my way past his rear legs with absolutely no problem. I stopped, puzzled that James wasn’t dancing a jig like Anne always did. In fact, he was standing perfectly calm, his head turned back in my direction, one big brown eye considering me from afar. I observed no white around the edges to indicate fear or panic. He was completely placid and I was completely confused. No horse had ever been so docile around me. I decided to test the waters.

“James.” I spoke softly and was surprised to see his ears quirk in my direction. “It’s Michael.” His ears quirked again. He recognized my voice! I was at a complete loss as to what to do next. Realizing that the minutes were ticking by while Daniel lay alone back at the house, I pushed aside my curiosity and got down to the business of feeding and changing his water. James began to eat his oats as soon as they landed in his bucket and proceeded to ignore my presence by his side. I refilled his water and then just stood there watching him eat. It was as if I weren’t even there, or—as it suddenly dawned on me—it was as if I were _human._

Very cautiously, I reached out a hand and laid it gently against his body. No reaction. He continued to eat, seemingly unconcerned as I slowly stroked my palm down his neck. I took a step closer and scratched behind his ears. They twitched against my fingers, which made me smile. His mane was soft as the down of a blanket. I ran my hand up and down it over and over again, scratching and rubbing the skin beneath my fingers. I knew I was smiling, because it felt like I was going to burst open with happiness. Without caring about the consequences, I pressed my nose against James’ neck and breathed in his scent. Long-ago and nearly-faded memories of my childhood rushed in with the smell. Hours spent grooming my horse, caring for him, talking to him, sharing my hopes and dreams with him. I wanted to weep, I was so happy. It had been over five centuries since I’d been able to touch an animal like this. I wanted to stay there, with my hands and face lying against his body and his hair prickling against my skin, for the rest of the night.

“Michael.” The faint sound of my name, spoken with Daniel’s weak voice, jerked me out of the dream state I’d fallen into. I reluctantly backed away from James with a final pat to the side of his neck.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” His ears quirked again as he continued to eat.

Another puzzle, even more curious than the Grandfather clock, had just presented itself.

* * *

The second day was worse than the first. I had to ease his pain more often than before, and still his body trembled with it, his hands shaking with uncontrollable tremors, the tears flowing silently, but copiously down his face. His whimpers turned to low moans that no amount of mind control could dispel. The venom was systematically razing its way through his body, evaporating the life out of everything it touched, freezing his organs into their final, eternal state. It was an excruciatingly slow process for both of us. He begged me, in tortured gasps, to end it, to just kill him and end it all. His pleading ripped at my soul. I’d lived his agony, and because of that I knew that he meant every single word that he spoke.

I’d been forced to leave him in the morning, but only immediately after I’d helped him with the pain. I’d swiftly led Anne out of her stall, opting to tie her up further down in another empty stall, while I cleaned hers at vampire speed.

James, on the other hand, had watched me with interest as I’d cleaned around him, raking the soiled straw from between his legs and underneath his body, and replacing it with fresh, without a care in the world for my safety. I’d smiled the entire time. Shoveling horse shite had never been so satisfying. Caring for Anne was hell. Caring for James was a labor of love for me now, something I looked forward to with anticipation. As soon as I’d left the barn, I couldn’t wait to return so that I could feel his coarse hair beneath my fingers, and feel the warmth of his breath in my face when he snorted in my direction.

The hours ticked by without any change in Daniel, as was to be expected. By late evening, after once again easing his pain, I finally managed to unfold his body from the fetal position he’d been coiled into since the beginning. I gently stretched out his legs and straightened his arms by his side. I was relieved to find my touch wasn’t as distressing to him as before. He managed a short sentence when I praised him for his progress.

“How long?” he whispered.

“One more day. It’s almost over.”

Unfortunately, what he didn’t know was that the last day was the worst of the three, the time when the fire finally focused in on its final target: his heart. The burning would escalate to nearly unbearable levels, and I wouldn’t be able to ease it for him. Like in the beginning, I couldn’t slow that last frantic pounding of his heart without prolonging the pain. I dreaded it.

He stared sightlessly up at the ceiling for most of the evening as I continued to talk quietly with him. I talked about the horses, but left out the curious behavior of James. I was pondering that puzzle continually in my mind as the hours passed. And like with the clock, I was stymied.

Late evening, I slipped out to feed James and Anne, but didn’t linger, despite my deepest wish to do so. Things were going to change very soon for Daniel, and I wanted to be there for him every moment possible. I didn’t want him to be alone when his humanity finally slipped away.

In the wee hours of the morning of the third day, things began to change swiftly. Daniel’s skin felt firmer to the touch with each passing hour, and his body took on the crystalline, statuesque beauty of a vampire. He was going to be magnificent. The early morning sun beamed in through the bedroom window. The day of Daniel’s rebirth looked promising. Clear skies, crisp and clean cold air, perfect weather for a new start.

I was in the middle of another story from my past when his heart picked up speed. I stopped speaking. The end was approaching. Suddenly Daniel’s eyes snapped open. They were still dark, but not completely brown. Crimson was seeping in from the edges.

“I’m dying!” His panicked voice shocked me. I’d never expected him to speak, especially not through the agony he must be feeling at that very moment, as the venom burned a blazing hot trail directly into his heart.

I leaned in closer to him to reassure him that he wasn’t, in fact, dying, and instead found his fingers clutching my shirt in tight fists.

“I’m dying!! I can feel it, Michael. Don’t let me die! Please!! Oh God, don’t let me die!!”

I knew what he was feeling. His humanity was being scorched away by the flames burning at the edges of his heart. It was fighting a losing battle. Now all I had to do was convince Daniel to _allow_ it lose that battle. “You’re not dying. I promise you.” I spoke quietly, hoping the calm sound of my voice would soothe his fears and make him listen. “This is the hardest part. You have to let go of your human life. I know it’s your instinct to fight death, but don’t. It’ll only prolong this.”

His hands clutched at my arms in a literal death grip. “I don’t want to leave you, Michael! Don’t let me die! I don’t want to leave you!!”

I gathered him up into my arms and held him close, whispering soothing words to him even through his panicked insistence that he was leaving me, that he’d never see me again, that he was truly dying, that it was over for us. His heart galloped in his chest like a herd of runaway horses. It picked up even more speed, beating at an inhuman rate that couldn’t continue much longer. His fingers dug hard into my back. His pleading for me to save him grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment. Nothing I said made any difference. In the end, we held onto each other and endured.

 _“NOOOO!!”_ His last panicked scream,as his heart reached the end of its short life, echoed loudly in the room. And then it just stopped. There were no skipped beats, no stuttering at the last. It just quit. He exhaled the last breaths of air that had filled his lungs, and it blew warm on my neck. His body went completely still. I released him and laid him gently back onto the bed.

“Daniel, it’s over. You’re not dead; you’re alive. You can open your eyes now.”

Despite my soft pleas, he lay completely still for over an hour. Then suddenly, for no reason at all, his eyes snapped open, and what I saw in their crimson depths scared the hell out of me. In the space of an instant he was up off the bed, crouched defensively and hissing viciously at me. I propelled myself backward and was now crouched in a similar pose against the far wall, the remnants of the chair I’d shattered along the way littered the floor between us.

“It’s Michael. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here.” I spoke calmly and quietly, gradually coming up out of my protective crouch. He studied me with his burning red eyes, and I could almost see him considering whether to believe me or rip my arse to pieces just to be sure. I very cautiously approached him, step by step with palms outstretched in supplication. “Nothing in my hands, Daniel. No weapons. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.” He snarled softly, his eyes following my progress across the room. “We’re in France, at Edmund’s estate. Remember? You’re a vampire now. It’s over. There’s no one here but us, just you and me, your lover and your friend, the one who changed you.”

Very slowly he eased up out of his crouch and stared at me as I approached. “Michael?” he asked, and then immediately launched into a barrage of questions and random statements. “What’s wrong with my voice? My god, I can see the dust in the air! What is that sound?” He whirled around, searching for whatever minute noise had caught his attention. “The sunlight, it’s beautiful! I’ve never seen that color before! What is its name?” And on and on it went as his eyes swept the room in a continuous manic motion.

I smiled at the memory of my first moments as a vampire. It had all been so wondrous and overwhelming and frightening all at the same time. Daniel was being bombarded with sensations and sounds and images that his mind wasn’t ready to accept. He needed to focus and quickly before his frustrations brought out his short fuse, which had probably grown even shorter since he’d opened his eyes.

“Daniel!” My shout caused him to whip his head around toward me. I had a moment of sheer panic at the predatory look in his eyes as they focused in on my face. Then he gained control of his instincts in an instant and the look disappeared. He was showing great promise at handling his volatile newborn emotions. I moved closer to him, still cautious, but not as fearful for my life as I’d been at first. “Look at me, Daniel, at my face and nothing else.” He obeyed without objection. “Your voice hasn’t changed. The only difference is that you’re hearing tones that you weren’t able to hear with your human ears. It’s always sounded like this to me, like dark honey and smooth cream mixed together. It’s low and rich like molasses.”

He frowned. “Yours sounds much the same, except it’s very soft, like the down of a baby duck. Very comforting.”

“Asha described it as a gentle summer breeze caressing her skin.” I chuckled. “Which I never understood.”

“I do,” he said simply. I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Now listen to the sounds around you. Only the sounds. What do you hear?”

He described a rustling in the far end of the house, probably a mouse in the kitchen; the soft huffing of the horses in the barn; the movements of small animals beyond the barn and farther into the forest; the sound of the leaves brushing against each other in the slight breeze. After several minutes of this, we’d successfully established the distance at which he could hear clearly.

“Now, take a deep breath and tell me what you smell.” I moved even closer so that he could catch my scent.

“Hot chocolate,” he announced. “I smell hot chocolate, and spices, like cinnamon, and leather.”

I frowned. The spices and leather were known to me, as described by Asha and Rhodes after my change. But there had been an unidentifiable scent that had remained a mystery for five hundred years…until now. Daniel had discovered it. Chocolate. Asha and Rhodes had never heard of chocolate, so of course, the scent had been unknown to them. “I smell like chocolate?” I asked with a quiet laugh.

“Yes and something stinks.” He took in another deep breath and analyzed it. “I smell the privy. Disgusting.” He grimaced. “And I smell the horses and the ashes in the fireplace and…what do I smell like to _you_?”

“Like the forest after a rain. You smell clean, like the laundry after the sun has shone on it all day, and like smoke, but not the suffocating kind. It’s fragrant, like the tobacco in Edmund’s office. Very spicy.” He smiled at my description but offered no opinion on it. “Now, stop breathing and focus on your eyes and the things you see in this room.”

“I can see the dust. It’s beautiful, and so many different colors to it. There’s a hole in the floorboards near the corner. I never noticed that before. And the sunshine is too bright. It’s not supposed to be that bright, is it?” He looked at me, waiting for an answer. I smiled and nodded. Everything was too bright at first. The richness of colors and contrasts of shadows were intense and vibrant to vampire eyes. “My God!” His shocked look left me wondering what he’d seen. He reached out and touched my face and then got distracted by something else. “You’re not cold!” His shock doubled, if that were even possible. The look on his face was pure joy mingled with disbelief.

“You’re like me now, Daniel.” I chuckled. “I’m warm to the touch, my skin, my breath, my mouth. No more shivering.”

He pulled me roughly into his arms, which was rather uncomfortable as evidenced by the yelp of pain that shot out of my mouth. “Careful!” I barked.

He apologized and relaxed his grip on my body. We stood in the middle of the bedroom floor for a very long time just embracing. “I can’t believe how warm you feel,” he said with contentment. “I’m never going to let you go.”

And he wasn’t joking, apparently. After twenty minutes of being subjected to his idea of a gentle embrace, I was ready to move on to something else, and so was my back. “Daniel…” I wiggled as a signal that I wanted loose. “Why did you say ‘My God’ earlier?” I hoped that a question would take his mind off his fascination with my warmth.

He pulled back from me and studied my face. He reached out a hand.

“Easy…” I cautioned him.

He very tenderly stroked his fingers down the side of my face. “Could you be any more beautiful?” he whispered in awe. “I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but now I realize that I’d never truly seen you.”

I smiled. “You haven’t seen beauty until you’ve seen yourself.” I guided him to the corner of the room, to a full-length wooden framed mirror perched on four spindly legs. “Look.”

I stood just behind him and watched his eyes move slowly over his face for a very long time. The softness of his human skin had transformed into sleek marble planes that reflected the light to perfection. He was mesmerized by his own countenance, and would have continued to have been if I hadn’t diverted his attention elsewhere.

“Look at your chest, your thigh, your hand, your ribs.”

His gaze dropped to his chest and widened in shock. The jagged scar near his armpit from Samuel’s blade was gone, as was the one near his ribs. His gaze darted down to his thigh where there was no sign of the scar that had come from ripping open his leg on a tree branch. He raised his hand, much too quickly, and examined it. The broken, misshapen fingers were finally straight.

“You’re perfect,” I breathed into his ear from behind. “All of your physical deformities are gone. You have a new start, a new life. The past one is done and will eventually fade from your memory if you allow it. Now do you see why I don’t believe in God? It’s because I created this. I created you, Daniel. I brought you back to life from death. This is not a skill reserved for some invisible, omnipotent god. Vampires do it all the time.”

He said nothing, but instead continued to stare at his new form. Finally, a small frown creased his marble brow. “My cock’s still the same, though. I have to say that I’m disappointed. Couldn’t you have done something about that if you’re so damned omnipotent?”

I chucked softly and reached around his body to grasp the offending member in my hand. “You’re perfect…and harder, as I promised. You can never be too hard, right?”

He laughed, and it was good to see that his sense of humor was still in evidence. Newborns were notoriously short-fused and grouchy. He wrapped his hand around mine and squeezed, grinning lewdly at me in the mirror.  _Surely not._ He hadn’t even fed yet! I didn’t trust him anywhere near my cock, not yet anyway, so I immediately changed the subject to divert his attention away from the swelling member we both held in our hands. “How does your throat feel?”

He let go of his cock and stroked the outside of his neck in bewilderment. “It’s dry and burning, like someone lit a piece of kindling and shoved it down my throat. What is it?”

“That’s the thirst, your hunger pains. You’ll feel that every time you need to feed or you catch the scent of blood. The sweeter the blood, the more painful the burn is in your throat. You need to hunt before you do anything else.”

He shot off down the hall quicker than a human wink of an eye. He was out the front door and moving across the clearing before I could stop him. A short burst of vampire speed put me directly in his path. “Daniel! You’re naked!” I shouted.

He stopped and considered my statement. “So? I’m not cold.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t I wearing clothes the night you met me in the tavern? I wasn’t cold either, but one doesn’t go round completely naked in broad daylight. You need to dress first.”

Then he became distracted by the sunlight glinting off of his skin, and temporarily forgot about hunting. He ran his hands all over his body, marveling at the prisms of colored light being thrown off him in every direction. “Just like you,” he whispered. “I’m beautiful.” He raised his eyes to me and smiled in awe at what he’d just discovered.

“I already told you that.” I chuckled. “Now let’s get you dressed.”

I guided him back into the house and pulled a fresh pair of breeches and a shirt out of a drawer for him. I watched in amusement as he gingerly threaded his arm into the sleeve, only to find he’d ripped a seam by accident. He snarled and poked his other arm into the remaining sleeve and ripped it as well. Frustrated, he reached up and tore both sleeves from his shoulders, leaving his upper arms bare. Then he started in on the buttons. They flew across the room in every direction as he attempted to thread them through the button holes.

“Hell and damnation!!” he snarled dangerously. “What’s wrong with me?!!”

I gathered his hands in mine and spoke in calm, soothing voice. “You have to learn to use your body all over again, almost like a child does. You have to learn to control your strength, and walk at normal speeds, and move your arms and hands as others do. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to mingle with humans. It’s a process that takes time and patience, which I have plenty of at the moment.”

I helped him don another shirt and buttoned it for him. We both pulled his pants on together, and after a short argument, I let him tie the ties. He ripped them off, of course, which angered him once again. It was a major ordeal just to get him ready to go outside. I only hoped he did better at hunting, or I was going to have a very interesting first night with a very frustrated newborn. Not something I was looking forward to. I suggested he practice his leisurely walk and ended up having to run full out after him just to keep up. He was incredibly fast to be so stocky.

“Breathe, Daniel. Smell the wind and find your prey.”

He stopped and turned his face into the breeze. His nostrils flared and we both caught the scent of deer at the same time. He glanced at me and grinned. “Lamb pie.”

I laughed quietly and scaled a tall tree to get out of his way. Perched on a limb, I watched from above as the most beautiful predator I’d ever laid eyes on meticulously stalked his dinner. He was a practiced hunter as a human, and now that he was a vampire, he had the grace of a lioness, the speed of a cheetah, and the deadly accuracy of a cobra. The deer hadn’t stood a chance. I jumped down from the tree and stood over him as he fed. A little messy, but not as bad as I’d been.

“How did I do?” he asked, once he’d finished feeding and stood up to face me.

“Nearly perfect,” I answered, and then motioned to him that he had some left on his chin. He wiped it from his face and then licked his fingers clean. His manners definitely needed improvement.

On the trot back to the house he brought up the horses. “I want to see James. I know he won’t like me, but I want to see him anyway.”

“Of course.” I smiled to myself at the surprise Daniel had waiting for him. If James wasn’t afraid of me then he most certainly wouldn’t be afraid of Daniel.

We approached the barn and Daniel stopped dead in his tracks twenty feet from the entrance. “Something’s wrong.” He cocked his head like he was listening to a distant sound. I focused on the sounds around me and heard nothing unusual.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“A low hum like from a swarm of bees, but much, much softer. Don’t you hear it?” He looked at me in confusion when I shook my head. I heard nothing that even remotely resembled the hum of bees.

I went to open the doors, but Daniel stood rooted into place. His behavior was certainly strange, but I attributed it to being a newborn, as there was no other explanation at hand. I went inside and waited for him to follow. He approached the barn cautiously, his senses obviously attuned to the sound that I couldn’t hear.

Once inside, he glanced sharply in the direction of James’ stall. “It’s coming from there!” he gasped. “From James! There’s something different about him, Michael! I can sense it. I don’t know what it is, but he’s not like Anne.”

My interest piqued immediately, because Daniel had discovered James’ secret without even approaching him. Something very intriguing was happening right before my eyes. I watched curiously as he walked toward James. Anne became frantic very quickly, kicking and snorting in fear. James was perfectly calm, as I’d known he would be. Daniel stopped at the entrance of his stall. He looked back at me in confusion. “You don’t hear that? That hum?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

He shook his head in disbelief and continued his cautious approach. “He’s so calm. Why isn’t he afraid of me?”

I smiled as the pieces to this intriguing puzzle snapped unexpectedly into place. “Because he’s different, like you just said,” I answered. “He’s not afraid of us. I’ve been able to touch him, stroke him, talk to him, and it doesn’t bother him in the least, and you sensed that about him immediately.”

He frowned and touched a hand to James’ rump. He yelped and yanked his hand back in surprise. “Feel that!” he gasped, motioning me forward.

I laid my palm against his flank and felt nothing. “I don’t feel anything. What did you feel?”

He reached out and tentatively laid his hand beside of mine. He closed his eyes in concentration. “It’s very hard to describe. It feels like when your hair pops in the winter, or like the air right before a lightning strike. A tingling, like a multitude of tiny insects are crawling up your arm, their little feet tickling you as they walk.”

I smiled at his description. I’d felt that sensation a few times in my life, but I didn’t feel it now, not with my hand pressed flat against a horse’s backside.

“Is there something wrong with me?” he asked. “Did something go wrong when you changed me?”

“No, not at all. You apparently have an extra sense that I don’t have. In the vampire world, Daniel, something like this isn’t considered to be wrong, or a flaw. It’s considered a gift.”

He pulled his hand back. “Great. You have this incredibly powerful gift that scares the shite out of me, and I can tell that a horse isn’t afraid of me from a distance of twenty feet away. Astounding,” he snorted derisively.

“It would be fairly astounding if this ability extended to people, wouldn’t it?” I gave him several moments to ponder the implication of that statement. “It’s most certainly worth testing, eventually.” It was going to be quite awhile before I’d allow him to be near humans, but I looked forward to seeing if this extra sense of Daniel’s worked with people.

And since we had plenty of time and nowhere important we had to be, we spent the morning with James. We led him outside and exercised him. We sat in the cold grass with our backs up against the barn wall and watched him graze at his leisure.

“Poor Anne,” Daniel observed. “Life hasn’t been kind to her. She’s stuck in a barn with a lad who has no interest in her charms, she has a vampire for a caretaker, which is like having a panther for a mother, and now she’s being ignored by both of them.”

I sighed and took his not-so-subtle hint. I led Dancing Anne out of her stall and let her graze alongside James for most of the afternoon. At dusk, we led them back inside and gave them an early feeding. By dark, Daniel and I were relaxing by a blazing hot fire in the main room—him sitting in the floor with his back leaned against an armchair, and me mirroring his pose several feet away.

“I see now why you enjoy the fire. It’s a nice sort of warmth, the kind that seeps down into your bones and stays there,” he said quietly. I nodded in agreement and then we listened in contentment to the crackling of the logs, and stared at the flames. “There are a lot more blue tones in a fire than I realized,” he observed, and then fell silent again.

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation of the fire, he suddenly got up and disappeared. I fought down my mother hen instincts that were screaming at me to go find him, and instead waited impatiently for him to reappear, which he did, with his paper and charcoals in hand. He sat back down in the same place as before and, after breaking only one charcoal, he carefully began to draw. Page after page for nearly an hour. The fire. The intricate design in the rug we were sitting on. Me—entirely too many of me. James. The barn. His cottage from home. Molly. And each drawing was a study in perfection. Flawless renderings of whatever image his eyes or mind saw and then his hand drew. Each one incredibly realistic and detailed, so much so that I could easily imagine them coming alive and leaping off of the paper. His talent, already impressive as a human, was absolutely stunning now. Every picture left me speechless, which pleased him immensely, even more than if I’d gushed over every one.

“This is incredible,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief at his own talent. “This means more to me than everything else combined. I see much more vividly now, details that I never knew were there, and now they just jump out at me and beg for me to draw them.” He met my gaze across the rug. “For this alone, I thank you, Michael.”

The agonizing memories of the past three days dissolved with his sincere smile of gratitude. To see him happy had made it all worth it. Nevertheless, no matter how well things had turned out in the end, Daniel was the first and last human that I would ever change.

Finally, he laid his drawings aside and focused his attention solely on me. “Why are you sitting way over there?”

“I’m not ‘way over there’, I’m right here. Just a few feet away,” I answered with a shrug.

He considered my answer, studying me with his new crimson eyes, which were fierce-looking just by their very nature. I wondered briefly what they’d look like filled with the fury of his newborn temper. I’d seen a few newborns in my five hundred years, and although Daniel was, so far, behaving quite nicely, I knew that the potential for a vicious temper tantrum was still there.

“You’re afraid of me,” he stated simply.

I frowned at his choice of words. “I’m not afraid. I’m just being _judicious_. There’s a difference.”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Let me say it another way then. ‘Afraid’ would be you sitting about a foot away from me. ‘Terrified’ is you sitting where you are now, ten feet away.”

I narrowed my eyes at him menacingly. He was taunting me and enjoying every moment of it. He knew he had the upper hand, because I’d mistakenly opened my big mouth and told him he’d be stronger than me in the beginning. I snarled softly and closed the distance between us by half. I was now sitting less than five feet in front of him, wanting desperately to glare at him, but finding it impossible. He was just too beautiful now, with that cocky grin of his and his characteristic arrogance that frustrated me and attracted me all at the same time.

He grinned. “Now you’re just plain scared.”

 _Scared, my arse!_ And before he could react, I was on him, straddling his thighs and kissing him hard, his face held captive between my unforgiving hands. I kissed him harder than I ever had before, because the fear of hurting him was now gone. He moaned and wrapped his strong arms around my waist. Thinking he was going to pull me closer to him, I relaxed into his embrace, only to find myself being flipped over and tossed through the air like a bit of flotsam, finally landing flat on my back perilously close to the fire. He straddled my outstretched body on all fours and laughed at me.

“You’re getting weak in your old age.”

I snarled viciously at him, gathered every bit of strength I possessed and kicked him off of me, a blow with my legs that would have sent a normal vampire sailing across the room. Instead, Daniel hurtled backwards only a few feet, crashing into the small side table beside the couch and shattering it.

“Is that all you’ve got?” He grinned at me, and dropped down into a defensive crouch. I jumped swiftly to my feet and mirrored his stance, circling him cautiously.

“Perhaps we should take this outside before we completely destroy Edmund’s house,” I suggested, moving swiftly to the right to keep the sofa between us. Like that would do any good. He could leap across it like a gazelle and pounce on me in a matter of seconds, if he wanted to. He ignored me and continued his slow advance in my direction. “What is this, Daniel? Revenge for my teasing? What?” My gaze never wavered from his as we maneuvered around the room.

He chuckled low in his throat. “You’ve needed an arse kicking for a very long time.”

“Oh, really?” I smiled inwardly. This was going to be fun. “Or maybe this is your idea of romantic sex play? Because, frankly, if it is, I think I’d prefer Edmund. He has much more finesse, and his hand is very soft. I imagine he could do very nice things with that hand…. _and_ his mouth.”

 _Never tease a newborn_. Daniel hissed at me and pounced. He slammed me to the floor, cracking my skull against the boards, and then pinning me there with both of his hands grinding into my shoulders. I struggled beneath the lead weight of his powerful body, but it was useless. As strong as I was, I was no match for a fresh newborn, not to mention a cocky one who was on a mission to prove a point. But I’d be damned if I’d just lay there like a limp rag doll and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I relaxed and tricked him into thinking I was giving up. When he relaxed his own grip, I tossed him off me, but he leapt back quick as a cat for more. We rolled around the floor and kicked at each other, cursed and spat, and exchanged blows until I finally decided my body had had enough. Lying spread-eagle on my back, pinned to floor with his fingers clamped around my wrists and his knees jabbing down into the muscles of my thighs, and his arrogant grin splashed all over his face, I surrendered.

“All right, damn you! You’re stronger than me! You can kick my arse all over Europe and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it!! Are you happy?!!” I shouted angrily into his face.

He smiled and released me. “I love you, Michael. And yes, I’m happy.”

I had no time to be confused at his sudden mood swing. He nestled his body up against mine and pulled me close against him. His strong fingers that had felt like iron shackles around my wrists, threaded gently into my hair. The kiss was soft, loving and tender, and went on for a very long time. I enjoyed it immensely and didn’t want it to stop.

“So, this actually _was_ your idea of romantic sex play?” I asked in astonishment, when we finally parted.

He laughed quietly and pushed at my cowlick. “No. I needed to prove some things to myself.”

“That you could kick my arse?” I asked snidely.

Instead of laughing as I’d expected, he grew serious. “No. I needed to make sure I could get rough with you without seriously injuring you, and to do that, I had to get you angry enough to really fight me. I’m sorry.”

I frowned. “Don’t apologize. I’m fine. My ego is damaged more than my body, trust me. You didn’t hurt me.”

“That’s good, because I also wanted to be sure I could make love to you without hurting you.”

I think I loved him more that moment than I ever had since I’d met him. I’d severely misjudged his actions, thinking them to be his own selfish need to prove his strength was greater than mine, when in actuality my safety had been his only concern. I’d chosen my eternal companion well.

“Let’s go to bed,” he suggested. “I don’t want to swive you on a cold, hard floor.”

What followed was the strangest lovemaking I’d ever experienced. Lots of laughter, teasing, wrestling and playfully thrown punches, mingled with passionate kissing and touching, some quiet talking and then a rough coming together of our bodies that left us both shocked at the intensity of it. Him more than me.

“God’s bollocks!” he shouted to the world after it was all over. “Fucking the pope couldn’t be any better than that!”

I frowned over at him, but his eyes were shut and he had the most blissful expression plastered all over his face. “Just forget about going to Heaven. You’re never going to make it with a mouth like that. I’m quite sure God gave up and just struck a thick black line through your name ages ago.”

He chuckled to himself and peered at me with one eye open. “Does it always feel like that? That intense?”

“Everything is enhanced, remember?” I reminded him. “Even sex.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he swore, and then laughed. “I’m not going to get a damned thing done in this new life but swiving.”

What could I do but shake my head in resignation and agree? I wasn’t even going to bother telling him he was incorrigible.

* * *

 

Our remaining time in France was spent training Daniel to use his new body, adjust to his greater strength and control his movements in such a way that he could blend in with human society, because we had big plans for the coming years.

In the evenings, we talked of our future before the fire, the countries we wanted to visit, the sights in each that we wanted to see. We even discussed settling down and pondered which country would prove to be the best location for it. We reminisced about England and promised ourselves that one day, when it was safe, we’d return for a visit.

We spent quite a lot of time with James. He received more love from the both of us than any one horse deserved. Daniel became quite the horseman, riding tall and confident in the saddle as if he’d been doing it since the day he was born. I was proud of the progress he’d made. He wasn’t completely healed from the damage Samuel had done, but he was well on his way to being so thanks to a horse, that for some unknown reason, was different from all others.

Jane and the Volturi never returned the entire time we were in France. Perhaps Aro had sent someone to spy on us to make sure Daniel was changed, or perhaps Jane hadn’t even mentioned her visit with us to begin with. I didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care. I wanted nothing to do with Aro, the Volturi or even Italy, for that matter. Daniel had decided that visiting a fat, self-important pope living in a grandiose palace wasn’t cause enough to step one foot inside of Italy, and I agreed.

Daniel passed his first test of mingling with humans with flying colors. I took him to a nearby small town, where we walked sedately down the single street at night, just two strangers passing through on our way to somewhere else. He fought his thirst valiantly, and to any passerby on the street he appeared to be perfectly normal. Only I understood the enormity of strength and the stubbornness of will it took for him to resist them. But Daniel had made a promise to himself that he intended to keep. He’d vowed to never take a human life, and I’d supported him wholeheartedly. He’d attempted to get me to join him in his chosen diet of animal blood. I’d politely, but firmly, declined. The world had way too many Samuels in it to suit me, and I planned to rid the earth of as many of them as I could.

When he’d grown accustomed to being around humans, we ventured into Paris to test his newfound ability, or extra sense, as I referred to it. We discovered, through strolling along the streets, and mingling inside shops, that his gift did indeed work with humans, but not all of them—only the ones who were different in some way. He determined, through experimentation, that the volume of the hum differed with each person. And of course, we had no way of knowing what specifically made those people different without questioning them, which we weren’t prepared to do. Nor could Daniel touch each one, to see if he felt that strange tingling up his arm. He only managed to “accidentally” bump into a few, and was pleased to discover that he felt the sensation every time. We left Paris satisfied with the knowledge that Daniel had an identifiable vampire gift. Whether it would prove to be useful still remained to be seen.

Finally, our time in France came to an end. Edmund returned from his whirlwind European trip and discharged us from our duties. We said our long goodbyes to James, a task which was heartbreaking for both of us. We knew that we’d been lucky to stumble upon this very special animal, and we weren’t likely to find another one like him ever again. He’d helped heal Daniel and had allowed me to relive the happiness of my childhood. A very special animal indeed….

Not needing to buy food or other necessities, we’d managed to save a fair amount of money from the wages Edmund had paid us, enough to start us on our journey together. With our two saddlebags stuffed to bursting, we took one last look at Edmund’s house, before turning and walking away into the forest toward to the south. To our first destination: Egypt.

 

**THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really the end. These two characters live on in my imagination. They have many more stories to tell of their life together. I've written a series of vignettes which chronicles their life after Daniel's change, and a lengthier one shot to finally round out their story. Also, Daniel makes an appearance in my story about Alice Cullen, "In Search of Forever: Alice's Story", so this is not the last you'll see of these two characters!


	15. The Pyramids: Vignette #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't lying when I said at the end of "The Birth of a Friend" that this story wasn't over. I have a complete novel involving these two characters in my head, but realistically I know I will never have time to write it. So what I've decided to do is to write a bunch of these "vignettes". 
> 
> A vignette is a short, impressionistic scene that focuses on one moment or gives a particular insight into a character(s), an idea, or a setting. In my case, these vignettes will be short scenes, or snapshots, that will take place in one setting and encompass a short span of time. So, when you get to the end of this one, I know what you're going to say: "What?? She stopped THERE??" Yes, I stopped there, because that's the stopping point for this vignette. (If I continued on with the action at the next setting, this wouldn't be a vignette, it would be a one-shot.) So, the next one will take place at the setting mentioned at the end of this piece. 
> 
> Think of this as me just taking my "literary camera" and snapping photographs of Michael and Daniel's journey together, and providing the narration for what happened in that photo in the form of a short story. Some of them will be humorous, a couple may be incredibly sad, and some will be a mixture of both. They will all be posted in chronological order and as part of "The Birth of a Friend." (Oh, and I'm pretty sure most of them will be in Daniel's POV.)

_**The Giza Plateau, Egypt - October 1, 1642** _

 

 **~ DANIEL ~** __

“It’s beautiful.” The warm night wind of Egypt’s great desert snatches Michael’s awed whisper from his lips and tosses it lightly into the air and across the barren landscape around us.

“Yes, it is,” I agree. I am too mesmerized by the different colors in the sand to even begin to concentrate on the massive stones before me.

“It’s as if the sky’s turned upside down and the stars are buried beneath the sand,” Michael marvels.

He is right. The sand surrounds us as far as we can see, and it glistens underneath the night moon like it hides a million twinkling stars amongst its infinite grains. Who would have thought such emptiness could hold such beauty?

“I’ve never seen it with these eyes,” Michael continues, his voice hushed. “I was human the last time I was here.”

“When was that exactly?” I ask, as I sweep my gaze over everything around me and struggle to process it.

“October 1102,” he answers softly.

I tear my eyes away from a particularly beautiful stone and glance his way. He’s staring off into the distance, but I suspect he doesn’t even see the Egyptian desert. “You were human and yet you remember back that far?”

He nods without looking at me. “Yes. Your human memories will fade if you allow them to, but some things must be remembered. They’re too important to let go.”

“How do you keep them from fading?” I ask, because there were memories in my human past that I never wanted to forget, and others that needed forgetting.

“If it’s something unpleasant, just don’t think about it ever again. Eventually, it disappears from your mind. If it’s a pleasant memory, relive it every day of your existence, as I do mine.” He falls quiet for a few moments and then sighs. “Let’s go around to the back side of the pyramid.”

Without waiting for me, he trots ahead and turns the corner of the massive stones just as I catch up with him. The back side of the pyramid is couched in shadows, giving it a sense of privacy. The complete silence of the Giza plateau makes the entire area seem almost hallowed, like the inside of a church when no one is in attendance. Michael stops abruptly, and because I’m too busy taking in the splendor around me, I bump into him.

“Here,” he states simply. “This very spot.”

I look around and where I am standing looks exactly like every other spot at the base of the pyramid: lots of sand, pebbles, and of course, the huge stones that form the base of the monolith before us. “What’s so special about it?”

He smiles wistfully as his eyes sweep over the area. “Asha and I were married on this very spot. You’re standing exactly where Rhodes stood as she witnessed our vows.”

“Do you remember them?”

“Of course. I’ll never forget them as long as I exist. I went first.” He hesitates and when he starts speaking again, he looks me straight in the eye. “’I give to you this night, all that I have—my body, my heart, my soul, and my life. I give these things to you freely and with all the love that I possess. And when I finally join you in this life and become your equal in strength, I promise to protect you always, as you have protected me. No one will ever replace you in my heart. Ever.’”

He waits for a reaction from me, but I can’t speak. I want to tell him what beautiful words they are, but the compliment sticks in my throat. Those vows that he’d spoken to Asha so many centuries ago could have so easily come from my own mouth. I feel for him exactly what he’d felt for her. Like with Asha, I’ve given Michael my body, my heart, my soul and my life, and have given them freely. There will never be another man for me. Never. As far as I am concerned we’re married, just as he and Asha had been, but I will never say that to him. “They’re perfect,” is all I can manage.

He smiles and then continues with what Asha had vowed in return. “Then she said to me, ‘I vow to love you and protect you, and to always be by your side wherever this life takes us. There has been no other like you, and never will be again. You are my last, my only. The bond of love we form this night will live in our hearts for eternity. You are my singer —il suo cantante. My heart—il mio cuore. My soul— la mia anima. My life— la mia vita. Forever— per sempre.’”

I hear an unfamiliar phrase and have to fight the urge to interrupt him. When he finally reaches the end of her vow, I question him. “’You are my singer—il suo cantante.’ What does that mean? I’ve never heard that.”

“A singer is a human whose blood scent is more intoxicating to you than any you’ve ever encountered. The impulse to kill your singer is nearly impossible to overcome,” he explains, and then continues with a proud smile. “But it can be done, as proved by Asha. I was her singer, but she fought against her nature and was able to form a relationship with me. It’s a very rare and special thing when that happens to a vampire, at least that’s what she told me later on.”

My soul dies just a little at hearing his explanation. I’ve just been given a cold, hard fact that I’ll have to find some way to accept: I will never mean as much to him as she did. I am not his singer. Our bond isn’t rare like theirs was. I want so very badly to hate her for being the perfect mate for him, something I long for more than anything else, but I cannot. Watching him speak of her, seeing the happiness on his face, the joy in his eyes at the mention of her name, makes that impossible.

“She must have been a very special person,” I offer.

He sighs. “She was.”

A long silence falls between us. I take the opportunity during those quiet moments to examine the massive boulders behind us. Each one towers nearly two feet over both of our heads. It’s inconceivable to me how humans could have moved them into place.

Suddenly Michael grins widely and points at the boulder just behind me. “Look! It’s still here!” I follow the direction of his finger and spy a hand print embedded into the rock face that I didn’t noticed before. I stoop down to examine it at the same time he does. "That’s Asha’s hand print,” he informs me, still grinning.

I lay my hand, palm flat, over the print. Mine looks massive next to hers, like I’m comparing it to a child’s. “Damn, she was tiny!” I exclaim. Michael nods in agreement. “Is there a story behind this?” Judging by Michael’s mischievous grin, there has to be.

“This is where we consummated our marriage. She slammed her palm against the rock…at the end,” he says, grinning crookedly. “She said it was to keep from hurting me.”

I look back at the handprint and how deeply it’s embedded into the stone and whistle softly in appreciation. “That must have been some damned good swiving.”

He smiles. “She was my first and I was her singer, so yes, it was good.”

 _Aah, to be Michael’s first._ I envy her that, and wish with all of my heart that he’d been mine. I stand up and tower over him, watching as he lightly brushes his fingertips over the indentation in the rock and slowly traces the furrows representing each of her small fingers.

“I miss her,” he says sadly.

“I’m sure you do,” I say in sympathy. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose one’s mate, and especially in the violent way that he’d lost Asha. The fact that he is still alive is a testament to his strength. I know that I would never be that strong if I were to lose Michael. I shudder at the thought, but it goes unnoticed. His attention is still focused on the stone. Michael heaves a deep sigh, and I sense he is about to sink into one of his quiet, somber moods, and if I allow it, I’ll find myself right there with him. I can wallow in self-pity just as good as he can, but I am damned if I’m going to let that happen. I want to make my own memories with him on this trip, not just relive the ones he’d had with Asha.

“I have an idea.”

He looks up at me over his shoulder and frowns. “I don’t like it when you get that look on your face,” he says cautiously.

I give him my innocent look, like I have no idea what he’s referring to, and then grin when his frown deepens. “How about we have a race to the top of this pyramid? Winner gets a kiss.”

He stands up slowly, his frown still in place. “You’re insane,” he says in disbelief.

I grin and shrug. “Haven’t we already established that?”

He considers me for a few moments, and then his mouth twitches in amusement. “Why don’t I just kiss you right now and save us the trouble.”

I stand up taller and shoot him the cockiest look I can muster. “Surely you’re not thinking you’d win?”

He grins back at me all smug and arrogant. “You outweigh me by twenty-five pounds. Of course I’ll win.”

I take a couple of steps toward him and poke him gently in the chest with my finger. “But I’m a fresh newborn, and you’re an… _old man,_ ” I say softly, and then chuckle.

His eyes narrow. He slaps my finger away from his chest and snarls. I’m howling with laughter inside my mind at just how easy it is to get him to do whatever I want.

“I’m an old man, am I? We’ll see about that!”

I laugh aloud at his retreating back, as he stalks off toward his corner of the pyramid. I backtrack and take up my position at the opposite corner. “Do you need some time to loosen up those old muscles of yours?” I call out. A hiss is all I get in response. “On your mark…get set…go!”

It isn’t a very exciting race, all things considered. It only lasts a few blinks of a human eye, and I beat him by mere seconds. We’re both now clinging to opposite sides of the pyramid, the point of the top jabbing up between us.

“About time you got here,” I say, smirking. “I was getting bored.”

He sneers at me and looks away. Then his eyes widen and he gasps. “Look!”

I turn my attention away from him and quickly realize what has him so mesmerized. We’re hundreds of feet in the air with an unfettered view of the landscape around us. Egypt lies before us as far as we can see in every direction. We grow quiet as our eyes take everything in. Images flood into my mind at an astounding rate. I look forward to sorting through them later on at my leisure and putting them on paper.

“I’m trying to decide if I feel powerful right now, or insignificant,” Michael whispers. His eyes, like mine, are in constant motion.

“I vote for insignificant,” I say. “Look.” I point upward to the night sky. It’s filled with pinpoints of light as far as the eye can see.

“It feels closer from up here, doesn’t it?” Michael says in awe. “Like we could actually leap up into the heavens.”

I nod. As I gaze at the night sky and at the land stretching out before us, I suddenly realize the vastness of this world that we live on. It had seemed very, very small to me just a few months ago, and now, thanks to Michael, the earth is suddenly much bigger, and just waiting for me to discover its treasures.

We look at each other and smile. “Thank you,” we both say at the same time, and then laugh at our having the same thought at the same moment.

“Why are you thanking _me?_ ” Michael asks, puzzled.

“For giving me this opportunity, for giving me this gift of being able to see the world, and see it so differently from everyone else, for sharing your memories with me, for loving me.” I shrug and then finish with the only thing I know to say, “For everything.”

He frowns and then finally smiles. “You’re welcome, Daniel.”

“So, why were you thanking _me?_ ” I ask.

He chuckles. “It’s nothing as profound as what you said. It’s just for making me do this, racing you to the top of this monstrosity. I would have never done anything like this without you here. I would have never seen all of this. I would never have this memory of us to cherish if not for your silly impulsiveness.”

“Should I be offended at that remark?” I ask playfully.

“I mean it,” he says seriously. “You have no idea what you mean to me, what you’ve done for me. I know that I complain and frown and make fun of your antics. I also tease you a great deal, but you have to know that you’ve enriched my life with your very presence, and I thank you for that.”

A warmth spreads through me as I stare into his eyes across the point of the pyramid that separates us. I am not his singer, nor do I think he considers me his mate, but I enrich his life, and that makes me feel very, very good inside. Yes, I try to make him smile as much as possible. I try to lift him up when the sadness of his past threatens to bring him down. I never refuse his physical advances and try to show him every day that he is loved and deserving of that love. I know that I will never replace Asha in his heart, but it’s wonderful to know that I have my own special place there. “You’re welcome, Michael.”

We smile at each other in silent acknowledgment of our mutual love.

“By the way, I never got my kiss for beating your ancient arse,” I say, grinning crookedly.

His eyes narrow ominously, but then they immediately lighten. “If I weren’t afraid you’d bust that hard head of yours wide open like an egg, I’d kick you off the side of this pyramid for that remark.”

“You kick me off and I’m taking you with me,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. I pull him to me, kiss him hard on the mouth and then soften it into the lingering, tender kind of kiss that I know he likes. “Tell you what,” I say, when we finally break apart. “I’ll give you another chance to redeem yourself. Let’s race back down to the bottom.”

“What does the winner get this time?” he asks snidely. “Frankly, I’m not interested in another kiss like that one.”

I ignore his teasing because I know damned well that he loves kissing me and would gladly spend an entire night engaged in it. “How about…the winner gets the top,” I announce with a self-satisfied grin. I love the top.

He frowns at my suggestion. “How about the winner just gets whatever the hell he wants, where ever he wants it and in whatever position he chooses to get it.”

The man is smirking arrogantly at me. The cocky bastard actually thinks he’s going to win this time! I begin planning out my fantasy night of passion as I grin from ear-to-ear and wink at him. “You’re on. We race back to our original corners. On your mark…get set…go!”

Once again, it’s over in moments, but this time Michael is waiting for me at my corner just seconds before I arrive.

“About time you got here,” he drawls. “I was getting bored.”

“Ohhh no! You lose, my friend!” I laugh and jab him in the chest. “You were supposed to race to _your_ corner, not mine.”

He raises his hand in front of his face and begins inspecting his fingernails. “I’ve already been to my corner.” He casts a sidelong glance at me and smiles.

“What??! No you haven’t.”

He laughs arrogantly. “Yes, I have.”

“You’re lying because you’re a sore loser."

He drops the arrogance. “I promise you on Asha’s memory that I’m not lying. I beat you.”

I know then that he’s telling the truth, but I can’t figure it out. I’d been too focused on myself to notice him. “How did you do it?”

He gives me a wide and wicked grin. “I leaped from the top. You see, since I’m so very… _old_ …I’ve learned through the centuries how to use gravity to my advantage.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You cheated.”

He shrugs, his eyes all wide and innocent. “You didn’t say I couldn’t leap.”

I shake my head in disgust. I’ve been outsmarted by a cocky vampire bastard, and an old one at that! “You really need an arse kicking,” I sneer.

He laughs softly. “I know. You tell me that quite often, but you’ve yet to do it.”

I huff in annoyance and walk back to where we dropped our bags. “Let’s go find some rooms so you can start collecting on your prize.”

“Who said anything about rooms? I have a better idea.”

My body heats in response to his sultry voice. He’s smiling at me, this mischievous, naughty smile that is so out of character for him. My nerve endings sizzle at the thought of what lies ahead of me tonight. “What did you have in mind?”

“The Sphinx,” he whispers.

I glance over to our right where, in the distance, the enormous statue keeps silent vigil over the pyramids. “You want to swive at the Sphinx?” I ask, wondering what has happened to his sanity. I’d much prefer a soft bed of feathertick to a roll in the gritty sand.

 _“On_ the Sphinx,” he corrects me.

I shake my head, not even bothering to ask him to explain. He won fair and square and he was going to get what he wanted. “Fine,” I say, sighing as I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. “We’ll fuck on the Sphinx. Can’t say that I’ve ever done _that_ before,” I mutter under my breath.

I hear his mocking laughter behind me as we set off walking across the desert floor to that lonely statue in the distance

 


	16. The Great Sphinx: Vignette #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Great Sphinx is one of the largest single-stone statues in the world. At present-day it is 260 feet long, 20 feet wide and 65 feet high. The head alone is 14 feet wide and 30 feet long---plenty of room *wink*. For centuries, the Sphinx lay buried in the sand up to its chin. There were many attempts to unearth it through the years. The entire statue (with chest, paws and tail), and the surrounding structures, weren’t fully excavated until 1925.
> 
> It is possible that in 1642, Michael and Daniel were standing at least 50 feet above the floor of the Egyptian desert, but that’s just a guess on my part.

_**October 1, 1642** _

 

 **~ DANIEL ~** __

 

The view from the top of the Sphinx’s head pales in comparison to the view from the Great Pyramid, but neither holds a candle to the magnificence of my vampire mate standing before me, so close that I can discern every pore in his flawless skin. A light, hot wind lifts Michael’s hair and dances across both our nude bodies. I reach out to smooth down his cowlick, which always makes him frown, but I do it anyway with an apologetic smile. The man is beautiful with the moonlight gleaming off of his smooth, marble shoulders. His deep brown and crimson eyes touch every part of my face: my eyes, up to my forehead, sweeping down across my cheeks and finally settling on my mouth. My cock jumps, as it always does when I feel his gaze on me like it is now. There’s an intensity in it, a heat burning behind his strange eyes. I watch in fascination as goose bumps rise on his neck and spread to his arms and chest. He likes the feel of my eyes on him, as well.

  
He steps even closer. His mouth hovers next to mine. I shiver at the feel and smell of his breath as it blows gently across my face. I think he means to kiss me. I desperately want him to, but he holds back. Any other time, I would grasp his face roughly between my palms and greedily take my pleasure from him, but not tonight. He won the race, so these moments are his to do with as he wishes. I stand passively and let him take the lead. To my disappointment, his mouth moves away, but I soon feel the gentle graze of his nose along my jaw. A soft moan escapes my throat when he reaches my ear. I hear him breathe in deep, hold it, and then exhale gently. He’s pulling my scent into his lungs and savoring it. The scent of his lover.

  
“In the middle of a desert, I smell a forest with dew on the leaves,” he whispers, his lips barely touching the lobe of my ear. He retreats from my neck and now stares intently into my eyes. “With you, I will always have a bit of England…and home.”

  
“And with you, I will always have a cup of hot chocolate,” I answer with a smile.

  
He laughs softly, and his face transforms instantly, as his teeth flash white and his eyes crinkle with good humor. He places a palm on my cheek. “You are so very dear to me, Daniel.”

  
He finally kisses me, but it’s too brief and chaste, only a ghostly brushing of our lips that does nothing to satisfy my longing. He slides his hand from my cheek and down the side of my neck. A lone finger slowly trails along the top of my shoulder and down the length of my arm. Soon his other hand joins in and both are moving leisurely across my chest, down my arms, and back up over my shoulders. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent as his hands inch down my sides. He’s hard and so aroused. I feel it as his body brushes against mine, and I smell it as his spicy scent grows stronger in the surrounding air. His hands are close, inches away from touching me. I want his fingers gripped tightly around my shaft. I crave the slow stroke of his hand, but he denies me. Instead, he teases me with light, feathery touches of his fingertips, so quick and then gone.

  
My good manners disappear in an instant. I growl at him in frustration. He smiles mischievously to let me know he’s just having a bit of fun. My eyes narrow, but before I can utter a suitable curse he clutches my face between his palms and closes his mouth over mine with a series of hot, hard, and demanding kisses, the kind we both like. His fingers push through my hair. One of his hands slides around my waist and pulls me closer, but that isn’t enough for me. I snake my hand down his back and grab a handful of his arse. One rough yank and he’s right where I want him to be. I savor the feel of his hardness against my own, and smile inside, knowing that I am the only man he has ever done this with. So, in my own way, I am just as much his first as Asha was. His mouth captures my moan, as waves of lust roll through my body at the thought. I feel my control slipping, and remind myself that I’m a newborn and that I can hurt him if I’m not careful. As much as I love the kissing and the feel of his body against me, I pull away.

  
“Jesus…fucking…,” I groan painfully between clenched teeth, not even able to finish the curse. “I need to slow down.” He mutters a similar painful oath and nods his agreement. We stand in the darkness, with only our foreheads touching and our hands clasped together, letting our passions cool. But not too much.

  
“Daniel,” Michael murmurs. “You know that I love you.”

  
It comes out sounding more like a question than a declaration.

  
“Yes,” I answer.

  
“And you know that I would never hurt you.”

  
“Of course,” I say.

  
He releases my hands and then moves around behind me. I can sense him standing very close to my back, but not touching it. My body tenses, an instinctual reaction that has been with me since I was fourteen. I don’t like a man behind me, and for good reason.

  
“Trust me and know that I won’t hurt you.” 

  
My mind wants to believe him, but my body is rebelling of its own volition. I have to consciously force my fingers to relax out of the tight fists bunched at my sides. I don’t move. I feel his hands on my outer arms. His touch is very tender, but that has never mattered in the past. I have never allowed any other man to do this to me. Only Michael and only on the first night we were together, and even then I’d stopped it when the panic had threatened to overtake my sanity. I wait for that familiar panic to well up inside of me, but it doesn’t come. I feel his lips on the base of my neck and I hiss softly in warning.

  
“It’s Michael,” he whispers, as his lips graze across my skin. “I won’t hurt you.”

  
Every new touch of his hands or mouth brings forth a hiss from me, a tensing of my muscles or an urge to run, but the wild terror that has always gripped me so tightly seems to be gone. Still, I’m not completely sure.  He is very patient with me, murmuring assurances and waiting for me to relax before moving on. I am on edge as I wait in fear for the horror of that day in the barn to rise up in my memories and grab me by the throat. It doesn’t, but I think it’s just biding its time.  Finally, I feel him press his cock against my arse. My reaction to such contact in the past has always been violent and immediate, but instead of lashing out, I find myself relaxing back against him and wondering why I can.

  
As if he’s reading my mind, he reassures me as he slides his arms around my waist. “Your human memories are fading, especially the unpleasant ones. Their sharp edges are becoming weathered and indistinct as time goes by. The pain from those sharp edges is fading, as well. It’s time you began to heal.”

  
As he pulls me down with him to the rock floor, I realize that what he says may be the truth. I tentatively search my mind for the memories of Samuel and the rape. I find them quite easily, but they’re dulled. The vividness of the brutal attack has faded; the terror that stalked my human dreams is nothing but an echo now. It seems that I have a chance to heal my last remaining wounds this night and, for the first time, share myself completely with the man that I love. 

 

* * *

 

  
I lay stretched out on my back with my head resting on my wadded clothes. Michael lies beside me, holding my hand as I let my body go completely still and luxuriate in the lingering pleasure. I hear the wind blowing grains of sand against the rocks, the faint sound of a bleating goat in the distance, the rustling of night animals nearby, but nothing else of any importance. It’s as if we’re the only two people in the world.

  
“I feel so light. Like an enormous weight has been lifted off of my shoulders,” I say with a sigh of utter contentment. Not only that, but I feel free, clean and reborn.

  
“It makes me very happy to hear you say that,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  
I search for the right words to express my deepest gratitude to him for helping heal my last remaining wound, but flowery phrases have never come easy for me. So, I settle for simple. “Thank you.”

  
He chuckles softly. “It was my pleasure, and I do mean that literally.”

  
We turn our heads and look at each other. He winks and then grins. If I were still human I think I would have blushed, but since I’m not, and since teasing Michael is such fun, I feign astonishment. “That was you making those sounds? Damn, I thought it was a goat somewhere, squealing its last before dying.”

  
His eyes narrow, and then he realizes I’m teasing. A hard punch to my shoulder leads to a harder punch to his, which leads to a swift jab to my ribs, which ends with my hand closed tightly around his throat. I pin him down with just one side of my body. Our faces are close, our lips almost touching. “Lucky for you that I think the sound of dying goats is romantic,” I whisper with a smile.

  
He laughs low in his throat, and then closes the tiny distance between our mouths. The kiss is brief, tender and sweet. I sigh with contentment and roll off of him and onto my back again. Conversation lags as we gaze up at the night sky for quite awhile. It’s Michael who finally breaks the silence.

  
“When I was human, I used to go out at night and lie in the grass on my back, just like we are now on this rock. I’d spend hours gazing at those lights up there, wondering how far away they were and what it would be like to visit them. I passed many a sleepless night that way.”

  
I hear longing in his voice and wonder if he sometimes regrets asking Asha to change him, but I don’t ask. It wouldn’t change anything even if he did regret it.

  
“I did the same thing, except I’d push back the curtains so I could see the stars from my bed. And I never wondered what was up there. I already knew,” I say softly. I sense Michael looking at me and waiting for an explanation, but I keep my eyes focused on the stars. “One of those points of light was a place filled with people just like me. I imagined living there and being perfectly happy for the first time in my life. No one would look at me with scorn. People wouldn’t cross the street just to keep from having to speak to me, and no one would try to kill me for being myself. And I just knew there was someone up there waiting for me, someone I could spend the rest of my life with and who wouldn’t judge me.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Michael says sadly. “No one deserves such treatment, especially someone like you.”

  
A deafening silence descends over both of us, like a dark storm cloud dropping down from the sky. I hear the sadness in Michael’s voice and immediately want to kick myself for ruining our evening with my self-pity.  I grasp his hand and send him a reassuring smile. “No need to be sorry. The place I was looking for wasn’t ever up _there_.“ I nod in the direction of the star-filled sky. “It was here, right in front of me, the whole time. The person who was waiting for me—even though he didn’t know it—was a certain handsome vampire with the most beautiful cock I have ever seen and eyes that make me swoon like a young girl with the vapors.”

  
I look over at him in time to see the shake of his head, and the white of his teeth gleaming in the moonlight as he laughs. “You’re incorrigible.”

  
“I know.” I snicker. “You tell me that all the time.” The dark storm cloud of sadness evaporates as quickly as it came. I move closer to him until our bodies are touching and my head is resting comfortably on his shoulder.  “Do you think Asha would approve of me?” I ask hesitantly, hoping that the mention of her name doesn’t send him into one of his somber moods again. But he surprises me with another laugh and an arm sliding around my shoulder to pull me even closer.

  
“Asha would have adored you,” he says. “You and Rhodes have similar personalities. She would have laughed at your antics just like I do.”

  
“But what about _us?_ What would she think of that?”

  
His answer comes after a few moments of silence. “I think she’d want me to be happy, no matter the person I chose.”

  
I can’t help but snort with amusement as I picture in my mind the contrast between me and her, and the idea of her actually approving of such a match. “She’s probably up in Heaven right now wondering what’s happened to your head. You went from someone sweet like her to cavorting with a coarse, foul-mouthed sod whose greatest pleasures in life are drawing you naked and swiving you every chance he gets.”

  
I mean it as a joke, but Michael takes my words seriously. He wriggles out from under me and sits up, tugging me with him until we’re sitting and facing each other. He tilts his head to the side and frowns, just like he always does when faced with a curious problem. “Do you think that I make comparisons between you and Asha?” he asks incredulously.

  
“How could you not?” I ask, shrugging.

  
He shakes his head and I see annoyance, as well as confusion, in his expression. “I do not compare you to Asha. I never have. You’re two very different people, that is true, but that does not mean that one of you means more to me than the other.”

  
I give him a skeptical look. “She was your mate.”

  
He nods in agreement. “That’s true, and I’m not discounting the strength of the bond between a vampire and his or her mate, but I think you’re underestimating your importance to me.” He cups my face between his hands. “It was very easy for Asha to love me. I was an innocent seventeen-year-old farm boy who was completely mesmerized by her. I was naïve, optimistic, and quick to laughter, all easy traits to fall in love with.

  
“But I will tell you that you are the stronger of the two because loving the man I am now is anything but easy.” Before I can object, he hurriedly continues. “I’m damaged inside. There’s no way around that fact, and I know that being with me is difficult at times. I don’t know if my wounds will ever heal, and I’ve done very horrible things to mask that pain. But despite all of that, you still have this unwavering belief that I’m good. That’s the kind of love that’s not easy, but it’s so very powerful. You can change lives with that kind of love, Daniel. Just like you’ve changed mine.”

  
He stops, drops his hands from my face and waits for some response from me. If I were human, I’d be crying like a newborn babe, but since I have no tears or the appropriate words to express the joy that is filling up my heart, I gather him into my arms instead. I hug him hard and dig my fingers into his skin so deep that I know I must be hurting him, but he raises no objections. In fact, he hugs me just as hard, his fingers dig just as deep.

  
“Thank you,” I whisper for the second time this night.

  
We pull apart and I give him a tender kiss, and then another, and another. Soon our kisses deepen, but eventually Michael pries himself away from me.

  
“I don’t think we have time for another round of swiving,” he says with a crooked smile. “We need to find lodging before sunrise.” Without waiting for me to argue, he stands and begins dressing.

  
“Hey, I can be quick if I need to be,” I counter as I poke my foot into my breeches.

  
“I’m sure you can, but I can’t,” he says with a wink, and I’ll be damned if my cock doesn’t twitch at the sight of his seductive smile.

  
With our two bags slung over our shoulders, we leap from the top of the Sphinx to the desert floor.

  
“So, where are we heading?” I ask.

  
“Cairo.”

 

 


	17. Karnak: Vignette #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Karnak Temple Complex was built in the ancient city of Thebes (modern-day Luxor) by Pharaoh Ramses II beginning in 1391 B.C. The entire complex spans 200 acres and is the largest ancient religious site in the world. This vignette takes place in the area known as the Court of Amenhotep III.

_**Luxor, Egypt ~ October 5, 1642** _

 

“I have a theory about all of these monuments,” Daniel commented idly, as he stared up in awe at the massive columns of the Temple of Karnak. Their sides were covered in etchings; symbols and pictures that obviously had meaning. The bases were partially buried in sand, but what was exposed still towered nearly fifty feet into the night sky.

  
Michael frowned and glanced at Daniel’s profile. "What kind of theory?"

  
“I don’t think humans built the pyramids, the Sphinx _or_ this temple. I think vampires built it all.”

  
Michael couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that burst out of his mouth. “Are you insane? Of course humans built it all!”

  
Daniel narrowed his eyes and glared at Michael. “I’m getting tired of being told I’m insane. Say it again and I’m going to kick your arse, and I mean it this time.”

  
Michael wiped the mocking grin from his face. “A thousand apologies,” he said, attempting not to laugh and instead appear interested. “Please, by all means, expound on your theory. I’m listening.”

  
Daniel shot him a smug look, “Thank you,” and then continued. “I think that the pharaohs were vampires, especially the one who ordered the Great Pyramid to be built.”

  
“Why would a vampire want to build a pyramid?” Michael asked, unable to keep the derision at such a ridiculous notion out of his voice.

  
“So the humans he ruled would worship his arse and kiss the ground he walked on. That’s what _all_  rulers want.” He shook his head at how dense Michael could be at times. “So, I think that he got a bunch of his vampire friends together and they created some newborns, filtered them in with the human workers and that’s how they were able to move those massive stones into place.”

  
“Vampires couldn’t work in the daytime, remember?” Michael reminded him.

  
“That’s not a problem. The humans worked during the day and the vampires worked at night. Two shifts.”

  
Michael shook his head and frowned again. “Daniel…you’re ins—“ He caught himself just in time. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

  
Daniel felt his temper rise at being made to feel like a complete imbecile when he knew damned well that he wasn’t. “What’s so damned ridiculous about it?!”

  
Michael sighed. Daniel’s temper seemed to flare to life over the smallest things at times. He decided to ignore Daniel’s tight fists which were clenched at his side, and calmly give him a history lesson on vampire culture. “For one thing, vampires don’t have “bunches” of friends. Vampires are loners for the most part, and when they do congregate together, it’s in very small covens. And the reason for that is food. You get a large group of vampires together and all they do is fight each other over hunting territory. Although, the Romanians and the Egyptians actually had two very large covens a long time ago, but the Volturi crushed them. As a result, the largest coven in existence right now _is_ the Volturi.”

  
Daniel frowned at him, wondering if the man realized he’d just contradicted himself in the same breath. “You just said vampires don’t congregate in large groups. Then you go on to say that the ancient Egyptians had a large coven. You just made my point, Michael! The ancient Egyptian coven built all of this!” he exclaimed, sweeping his arm in a wide arc.

  
Michael decided that he might as well argue with the stone pillar in front of him, as to try and talk sense into Daniel when he’d already made up his mind. “Fine!” he huffed in exasperation. “The Egyptian vampires built it all! Happy?”

  
Daniel grinned at Michael, smug in the knowledge that he wasn’t as idiotic as Michael thought him to be. He knew by looking at Michael’s expression that he’d won this debate, and also that Michael was never going to admit it. _What a stubborn bastard_ , Daniel thought. “Race you to the top.” Daniel cocked an eyebrow at Michael in challenge.

  
“Being humiliated once wasn’t enough for you?” Michael snorted in amusement when Daniel snarled softly at him. “No need for a race. You just go first and I’ll follow right along behind.”

  
Daniel started scaling the side of the massive column with Michael close on his heels. He wished there were some loose stones he could kick into Michael’s face on the way up, but unfortunately, the side was smooth. Upon reaching the fluted top of the pillar, Daniel easily pulled himself up and onto the two-foot-wide stone ledge that connected the long line of columns together. He stepped aside and waited for Michael to join him on the precipice. Once Michael was standing by his side, Daniel turned and began walking across the narrow stone ledge, putting one foot carefully in front of the other just like he’d done as a boy back in England, his arms extended outward from his sides for balance. Walking on the tops of fence rails had been one of his favorite pastimes. He’d fallen quite often, as he’d been nothing but gangly arms and legs that had never seemed to work the way he’d wanted them to.

  
Michael trailed along behind Daniel wondering what demon had taken possession of his mind. The ledge was wide enough to walk comfortably, but Daniel was teetering along with his arms stretched out for balance, just like he was walking on top of a fence rail. _As if a vampire can lose his balance._ Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement. The man gave an entirely new meaning to the word “newborn”. He sometimes acted like a little boy instead of a blood-thirsty, uncontrollable brute, like most of the newborns Michael had seen during his travels. He smiled and wondered idly if something had gone wrong during the change, if maybe Daniel’s mind had been damaged. But no, the man had always had an endearing child-like quality from the moment Michael had first met him, along with a fiery temper and a fierce devotion to his principles. A very attractive combination.

  
At that moment, Daniel yelped and leaned sharply to the side, as if he were about to fall. He teetered on one leg, his arms wind-milled crazily, fighting for balance. _What a complete dunce the man is_ , Michael thought to himself. He knew perfectly well that Daniel was faking, and not about to lose his balance and fall. Michael almost felt like helping him on his journey to the sand below with a slap to the side of his fool head.

  
“Are you trying to get some cracks in your skull to match the big one in your arse?” Michael asked, laughing.

  
Daniel righted himself and glanced over his shoulder, grinning mischievously. “You’re obsessed with my arse, you know that? That’s why you wanted to be behind me, wasn’t it? So you could gaze at it at your leisure.”

  
Michael sneered. “I’ll have you know I haven’t looked at your arse once in the past hour.”

  
“An hour? That must be a record.” Daniel snickered and trotted the rest of the way across the ledge until he reached the end. He sat down, letting his legs dangle off of the sides and into empty space.

  
Michael sat down beside him and stared out at the vista before them. The larger cities, like Cairo, were bustling with activity during the day, but at night, all of Egypt slept. The desolation of the ruins seemed even more profound with the setting of the sun and the stillness of the night. Michael felt like he and Daniel were the only two people left in the world.

  
“So, have you ever been in love with anyone before me?” Michael asked.

  
Daniel glanced sharply to his right and frowned. “What brought that up?”

  
Michael shrugged. “You’ve never told me anything about that part of your life. I was just curious.”

  
Daniel focused on his fading human memories and found what he was looking for. As Michael had warned him, they were growing fainter with every passing day, but some memories seemed harder to forget than others, like a person’s first love, for example. “Yes, I have,” Daniel answered. “Well, looking back on it now, I realize that it wasn’t true love. It wasn’t anything like what we have, but at the time I thought it was.”

  
Daniel paused. Michael waited for him to continue, but the silence stretched on. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

  
Daniel shrugged. “No, it’s all right. I think that revisiting that particular memory one last time might actually be good for me. Then I can finally let it go with the rest of them. This was about a year before you showed up. I was at the tavern, of course, when I first saw him. I looked him over just like I did every stranger who passed through that town. He was older than me, much older. Thirty-years old to my twenty-one, but I didn’t know that at the time. He was taller, bigger, dark haired, nice-looking, but not overly handsome. Not my type at all.” Daniel glanced at Michael and smiled with a wink. “So I dismissed him from my mind. But he apparently hadn’t dismissed _me_. He ended up sitting down beside me and annoying the hell out of me until I was forced to talk to him.”

  
Michael barked a laugh. “That sounds familiar.”

  
Daniel chuckled at the memory of the first time he’d met Michael in that same tavern. He’d made a similar nuisance of himself that night in order to get Michael’s attention. “But, he ended up being very nice.” Daniel shrugged. “I was lonely, so I invited him back to my house. The next morning he was still there and neither one of us mentioned anything about him leaving, so he just…stayed.”

  
“Name?” Michael asked.

  
“Raphe,” Daniel answered. “His name was actually Ralph, but he said that no one ever called him that. He’d been Raphe for as long as he could remember.”

  
“Was he good to you?”

  
“Oh yes,” Daniel answered, nodding. “We got on well together. He helped me with the land and the garden. He liked my drawings. He was a woodcarver himself, not whittling, but carving things out of big blocks of wood. He was very good at it, too. Molly liked and approved of him. The swiving was good, and we hardly ever fought.”

  
Michael raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “You hardly ever fought??” It seemed that he and Daniel had an argument at least three times a day.

  
“He wasn’t a stubborn arse,” Daniel clarified, and then laughed at the annoyed expression on Michael’s face. “That was happiest ten months of my life, up to that point.”

  
“What happened?” Michael asked softly.

  
Daniel sighed deeply. Even now, he wondered how he’d been so stupid as to miss the signs of impending disaster. “One morning over breakfast he just pretty-as-you-please announced that he was going back to his wife.”

  
“His wife?!” Michael exclaimed. “You didn’t know? He didn’t tell you he was married??”

  
“No,” Daniel answered. “And I didn’t raise a fuss about it or beg him to stay. I just watched him pack his clothes and leave. I was in shock and hurt beyond belief, so after he left, I became a little…self-destructive. I was constantly angry and wanting to hit something, so I sought out Samuel every chance I got. It was easy to goad him into a fight. By the time you showed up, I didn’t give a damn whether I lived or died. I’d pretty much given up on the idea of finding someone and being happy.”

  
Finally Michael knew the reason behind Daniel’s strange behavior the night they'd first met. “That’s the only reason you’re still here,” Michael informed him. “Your lack of fear and your brazen disregard for your own safety piqued my curiosity and made me want to get to know more about you. It’s rather strange, don’t you think, that you let a kind man like Raphe just walk out of your life without a fight, and then you ended up falling in love with a vampire and a killer.”

  
Daniel grinned in Michael’s direction. “I actually have a theory about that.”

  
“Another one?” Michael asked, chuckling. “I hope it’s not as cockamamie as your last one.”

  
“Oh, it’s better,” he said smugly. “I think that when two people fall in love, it has nothing to do with what either one of them looks like, or whether they’re a man and woman, two men, or even two women, for that matter. I think your soul is constantly searching for that special person, for your other half. Our souls touch each other all the time. They communicate somehow in a way we don’t understand. And when your soul finally touches the right one, you fall in love, and it doesn’t matter who it is. If they’re the ugliest person on the planet, they’re the most beautiful person to _you_. That’s because your souls are perfectly matched and flaws don’t matter. So, what do you think of that theory?”

  
Michael shook his head in utter amazement. “That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. Truly, it is. Where did you get that idea?”

  
Daniel grinned widely and winked. “Well, how else would you explain a lover of women falling bat-shit in love with a dyed-in-the-wool sod? It has to be something like that.”

  
Michael blinked twice to clear his head, wondering if Daniel was serious or just pulling his leg again. “Did you just feed me a load of nonsense or do you really believe that?”

  
Daniel’s smile quickly faded, a frown creased his forehead. “No. I really believe it.” He reached over and stroked Michael’s cheek tenderly. “How else do you explain two people falling in love who are so completely different in every possible way? You were a vampire and I was human. You’re a killer and I would never take a life unless forced to. You love women and the thought of bedding one of those smelly creatures disgusts me.” A smidgeon of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a grouch and I’m utterly loveable. You have a horrible temper and I’m mild-mannered. You have absolutely no—“

  
“What in the hell are you saying??!” Michael interrupted, unable to believe the claptrap coming out of Daniel’s mouth. " _I_ have a horrible temper?! _I’m_ grouchy?!"

  
Daniel broke down and laughed until Michael thought he was going to fall off the ledge and onto the desert below. _Idiot!_

  
“I’m teasing you, Michael,” he said when he finally quit laughing.

  
“Hmmm, well you might be teasing, but _I’m_ wondering if my soul malfunctioned somehow,” Michael muttered.

  
“You love me and you know it,” Daniel insisted, leaning to the side and bumping his shoulder playfully against Michael’s.

  
“Yes, apparently I do,” Michael admitted.

  
A knowing smile was exchanged between them, and then Daniel slapped Michael hard on his thigh and changed the subject. “So, tell me about Rhodes.”

  
Michael frowned. “What brought that up?”

  
“You never talk about her. I was just curious,” he answered, mirroring Michael’s words of before almost exactly. “Did you ever swive her?”

  
Michael was shocked, and his face surely showed it. “She was Asha’s best friend!”

  
“That’s not what I asked you,” Daniel said in a sing-song voice that hinted he, Michael, was being less than truthful.

  
“No. I did not swive her,” Michael answered emphatically and then looked away.

  
“Aaah, but you wanted to.”

  
Michael glanced back at Daniel and the arse was grinning from ear-to-ear. “I was a seventeen-year-old innocent farm boy with a perpetual cockstand. I wanted to swive everything that crossed my path,” Michael answered defensively. “So, yes, I wanted to, but I would have never even considered doing it. I would never have hurt Asha like that. And Rhodes would have never considered it either. In fact, she didn’t like me very much when I was human. She avoided me as much as she could.”

  
“Really? Why?”

  
“Probably because I teased her mercilessly,” Michael answered. “It was the only way I could get her attention.” Michael chuckled beneath his breath at one particular memory. “One time, I called her by her real name, just to aggravate her, and I thought the woman was going to rip my bollocks off and stuff them in my mouth. Asha just stood by and laughed, with me scared half to death that I was about to be castrated.”

  
“Rhodes is not her real name?” Daniel asked, surprised.

  
“No. That’s her last name. She despises her first and middle name and insists everyone call her Rhodes.”

  
“So, what’s her name, then?”

  
Michael made Daniel promise that if he ever met Rhodes he’d never call her by her real name, not even to tease her. Getting such an assurance was most likely unnecessary, as Daniel would probably never meet her in person, but Michael preferred to be safe than sorry. He was rather fond of Daniel’s balls. “Her full name is Basilissa Nivana Rhodes. It means 'Regal Goddess' in Greek. Personally, I think it’s a very lovely name, very fitting for her, but Rhodes doesn’t feel that way at all.”

  
“I agree with you. It’s very exotic. Wonder why she hates it?” Daniel asked.

  
Michael could only shrug, because he’d never discovered the reason behind her eccentricity regarding her name. Asha wouldn’t explain when asked, only saying that it was Rhodes’ story to tell, if she wished to share it with him, which she never did. “Then after Asha made me a vampire everything changed between us.”

  
Daniel’s eyebrows raised in question. “Ooh, that sounds mysterious. What changed?”

  
Michael thought back to those days just after his change, when the world around him had seemed so bright, new and exciting. Everything had suddenly become incredibly intense, including his relationship with Rhodes. “I don’t know,” Michael mused softly. “It was almost as if she finally saw me, like I wasn’t worth noticing before, when I was human, but once I was a vampire I was suddenly… _there._ I felt the connection almost immediately. Of course, I’d always been attracted to her, but suddenly she was attracted to me in return. It was very distracting.”

  
Daniel smiled to himself as he listened and watched Michael talk about Rhodes. The man was in love with her. _I wonder if he’s aware of it?_ Daniel thought, and then decided the best course of action was just to present the idea for his consideration. “You’re in love with her.”

  
Michael glanced at him sharply. “No, I’m not!” He hesitated and then his eyes slid away from Daniel’s. “I don’t think,” he added, and the uncertainty in his voice was unmistakable.

  
“Yes, you are. You should see your face when you talk about her. And the sound of your voice when you say her name says it all. You’re in love with Rhodes, and I’m wondering if someday I’m going to have to kick her arse or challenge her to a duel for your love.”

  
Michael frowned at the ridiculous notion of Daniel and Rhodes squaring off in a clearing with swords at the ready. “That’s absurd. Besides, there’s no chance of that ever happening. Rhodes despises me. I walked out on her when she needed me the most, and put myself before everything, including her feelings. She avoids me now. I haven’t spoken to her in a very long time, and I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, if you don’t mind.”

  
Yes, he’d touched a tender spot on Michael’s soul with the entire conversation about Rhodes. Daniel now regretted bringing it up since Michael seemed about to sink deep into one of his somber moods again. He wondered, not for the first time, if this trip to Egypt had been a wise decision. It seemed more painful for Michael than pleasurable, and Daniel simply could not bear to see his lover in pain. “I agree,” Daniel announced brightly. “We’re supposed to be sightseeing and staring in wonder and appreciation at all these monuments the ancient Egyptian vampires built. So, let’s get on with it, shall we?” Daniel sprung to his feet and reached a hand down to Michael. He was pleased to see a crooked smile spread across his face to replace the sadness. Michael accepted his hand and rose to join him.

  
“I have a better idea,” Michael said.

  
There was that mischievous grin again, that naughty look of Michael’s that made Daniel’s skin tingle and his cock twitch uncontrollably in his breeches. “And that is…?” Daniel asked expectantly.

  
“Let’s 'appreciate' the Temples of Karnak the Michael and Daniel way. I’m sure we can find a ledge of suitable width somewhere around here.”

  
Daniel laughed and pulled him against his chest. “Now _that_ is my kind of sightseeing,” Daniel murmured against Michael's mouth just before he slid his tongue inside.

 

 


	18. Cairo: Vignette #4

**Cairo, Egypt ~ October 15, 1642**  
  


**~ DANIEL ~**

Michael had been restless all day, which I found to be rather odd considering vampires had the ability to stand frozen forever or at least until their thirst forced them to move. He’d idly watched me sketch out the Temples at Karnak for awhile, but with very little interest; he’d stood by the window and peered out into the blazing whiteness of Egypt’s daylight for awhile; he’d paced the room for awhile, deep in thought, all very strange behavior for Michael, or _any_ vampire, for that matter.

“Are you all right?” I asked worriedly, interrupting his tireless pacing from one end of the room to the other.

He stopped mid-stride and glanced at me curiously. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Dismissing me, he moved to the window again and spent the next hour watching the goings on in the street outside our room.

We’d secured very inexpensive one-room lodging, inexpensive because it was located in the worst part of Cairo. Only the bravest of souls resided along these dangerous, narrow streets, which resembled alleyways more than official thoroughfares. Very few residents dared venture out at night. As a result, the streets were bustling with activity during the day, as all of its more timid citizens hastened to get their necessary errands done before darkness descended. I couldn’t say that I blamed them, considering that a very dangerous and efficient killer by the name of Michael Golland was currently living amongst them. One of their unfortunate cutthroats had already succumbed to Michael’s thirst not two nights past.

“Come sit with me,” I suggested, laying my charcoals and paper aside.

“I’m fine.” He dismissed me yet again and continued to peer curiously through the cracks in the papyrus slats covering the window.

“Night’s not far off, and then we can go out,” I commented, returning to my drawing with a sigh of frustration. My attempts to engage him in any meaningful conversation had repeatedly failed. I wondered if I should stand on my head totally naked, or perhaps don some baggy underpants and dance a Scottish jig, but I doubted that those would get his attention either.

“This day is interminable!” he snapped in irritation and resumed his pacing. There was nothing to be said that would change the length of the day, so I held my tongue and continued drawing.

Another hour passed. I’d long since finished the Temple drawing and now turned my attention to my lover who was currently staring me down from across the room. I’d felt his eyes on me for awhile, but had chosen to ignore him, much as he’d ignored me all day long.

“Is that all you know how to do, just sit and draw pictures all day long??” he asked irritably.

I slammed my paper and charcoals down in frustration, finally fed up with his grouchiness. “Well, if you can manage to shite me a damned flute, I’ll play and sing for you! How about that?!”

He glared at me but said nothing. The rest of the late afternoon passed in much the same manner: very little conversation and a great many glares. I was perfectly content and could have sat for hours on end drawing. I didn’t understand Michael’s restlessness or the reason behind it. The man badly needed an interest to pass the time. Finally, as dusk settled over Egypt, Michael pulled away from the window where he’d been standing for the past two hours.

“I’m going out,” he announced suddenly.

“Just let me clean this up and I’ll go with you,” I said, setting my charcoals aside. I got up from the chair and began putting everything away.

“I’m going alone.”

I turned and considered him curiously. “You just hunted two days ago.”

“There are other hungers besides blood.”

I straightened slowly, an admirable feat considering I felt like I’d just been kicked in the stomach by ten vampires. I had to ask, even though I had a sick feeling that I already knew the answer. “It’s the woman at the shop, isn’t it?” We’d visited a local shop in search of art supplies for me—Michael’s idea—despite the fact that I hadn’t needed or wanted any. A woman there had caught his eye, a small Egyptian woman with long, silky black hair who was entirely too fragile to be of interest to a vampire, or so I’d thought.

He nodded but said nothing. Anger boiled up inside of me, but I didn’t let it show, or at least I tried not to let it show.

“You’re angry with me,” he stated, his gaze fixed firmly on my face, watching for my reaction.

I was angry, but not at him. I was furious with myself because I was to blame for this. I’d foolishly opened my stupid mouth while I’d still been human and told him I’d never stand in his way if he wanted to have sex with a woman. Back then, I’d given little thought as to how it would affect me. I’d only wanted to be understanding of his preference for women. In actuality, it hurt more than I could have ever imagined. At that moment, I wanted to kick my own arse, and beg him not to go. “I’m just wondering why I’m not enough for you.”

For the first time that day, his features softened. In the blink of a human eye, he was standing in front of me, sweeping those strange, beautiful eyes over my face. He grazed his fingers lightly down my cheek and brought them to rest on my lips. “This has nothing to do with you, or with us. I promise you that.”

I wanted to ask him ‘Just what does it have to do with then?’ but I didn’t because I already knew the answer. The man wanted cunt, pure and simple, and I’d never be able to give him that no matter how much I loved him. The only choice I had was to let him go and enjoy himself and pray that he came back to me afterwards. “Are you coming home tonight?”

He frowned at me incredulously. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I nodded, and against my better judgment, wished him well. “I hope you have an enjoyable evening then.”

He kissed me deeply, and then with one last quick and tender kiss of goodbye, he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.

 

* * *

 

It was the longest night of my vampire life to date. I considered going out, but quickly dismissed that idea. Sightseeing without Michael just wouldn’t be the same. When I found myself pacing the floor just like he had done, I knew I had to find something constructive to do to pass the time or I’d drive myself mad. I sighed aloud to an empty room and sat back down with my stack of drawings. I sifted through everything I’d drawn since we’d been in Egypt, looking for anything I could do to improve them and making sure I’d initialed and dated each one for posterity’s sake. As my eyes swept meticulously over every picture, my mind was busy thinking of Michael.

Images of him swiving that woman flashed through my thoughts. I didn’t understand his attraction to women to begin with, but the attraction to _human_ women was even more confounding. Why would a powerful vampire want to be with someone who was obviously too fragile to thoroughly enjoy? Personally, the thought of swiving a human held no interest for me whatsoever, and that included human men. I’d seen plenty attractive ones, but bedding them was out of the question, not only because I was devoted to Michael, but also because I wanted someone in my bed that I wouldn’t hurt, or even possibly kill. It saddened me to realize that this woman most likely would not survive the night.

All thoughts of Michael dissipated when I saw a mistake on the Temples of Karnak drawing. I’d signed it but had failed to date it, probably because I’d been too busy being annoyed with Michael at the time. I grabbed a charcoal and wrote the date below my initials:

 

_**DTH** _

_**O.15.1642** _

 

After writing the last number, my hand hovered over the paper. Something about that date triggered a hazy memory from my human life. I focused on the fading memories of my conversations with Michael but it was like trying to hold the fog of an early morning in my hand. I could sense the tone of past conversations just as I could feel the chill of fog against my skin, but when I reached out to “touch” them they slipped away. But, I had nothing but time this night, so I put aside my charcoals and my drawings and concentrated solely on discovering the significance of this date.

It took quite awhile, but when I finally was able to recall bits and pieces of the actual conversation about it, the reason for Michael’s strange behavior became all too clear. October 15th was his and Asha’s wedding anniversary, and up until the night he’d met me in that tavern, he’d spent every single October 15th since her death slaughtering innocent humans instead of reminiscing about the pleasant memories of his marriage, like most people did.

So, this wasn’t about sex after all. Relief rushed through me at the realization that he’d been telling the truth. This really wasn’t about me or us. He wasn’t doing this because I somehow didn’t please him or wasn’t enough for him. Almost immediately after my relief, I felt ashamed for thinking only of myself. If only I’d remembered the significance of this day much earlier, I would have been more understanding of his temperamental mood, and I would have also tried harder to prevent him from leaving. As it was, he was now out there in the Egyptian night wrestling with his demons alone. I thought about tracking him down and stopping him, but intuition told me I was much too late to save the woman. But it wasn’t too late to save Michael. I sat back to await his return with a growing sense of dread.

 

* * *

 

A little over an hour later, Michael returned, but the man who stormed through the front door bore little resemblance to the Michael I’d grown to love. His eyes were wild and glittered with an evil malice I’d never seen in him before. A torrent of fire ripped down my throat as the smell of blood overpowered the room and my senses. His shirt was soaked in it, his face splattered with bright red droplets, his hands very nearly as scarlet as his eyes. My protective instincts raged to life, along with my thirst. I backed slowly away from him, keeping a cautious distance between us.

“Michael,” I said softly, as not to alarm him.

 _“Don't talk to me!!”_ he screamed. He crossed the room in two long, angry strides and began ripping off his clothing and flinging the shreds into the small hearth. I watched him strike the flint and set fire to the blood-soaked clothes. Then he dipped a rag into the basin filled with stale water from the Nile and washed his hands with it, flinging it into the fire when he was done. He pulled a new set of clothes out of his bag and dressed in silence with his back to me.

“Michael,” I began again, but stopped when he turned and shot a murderous glare at me over his shoulder.

“Do you not understand English?!” he snapped in fury.

I bit back the snide retort I would have normally given him had this been an ordinary argument. Instead, I fought down my instincts to attack and walked slowly toward him. He turned and watched me with the eyes of a predator watching his prey walk right into his trap. Any other vampire would have surely backed down in the face of such evil as I saw in Michael’s eyes, but I wasn’t just any vampire. I was a newborn and much stronger than him, and I was in love.

Finally, I was standing a mere foot in front of him. While keeping my eyes fixed on his face, I grabbed another rag from the stand beside us and dipped it in the water basin. I wrung it out, and the whole while Michael’s glittering gaze never left mine. Ripples of panic raced across my skin as my body screamed at me that I was in great danger, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. I moved my hand toward his face and in a split second his fingers were clamped around my wrist in a steel grip of agonizing pain.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” he said in a low, malevolent voice, squeezing my wrist even tighter.

“Let go,” I said calmly. When he failed to relent, I forcibly, and with ridiculous ease, pushed his arm down to his side and yanked my throbbing wrist out of his grip. With my other hand, I began to tenderly wipe the droplets from his cheek with the wet rag. His body trembled as I patiently removed every bit of blood from his face and neck, but he never spoke, nor did he try to stop me. “You have some in your hair,” I said casually, as if scrubbing blood out of a man’s cowlick were an everyday occurrence for me. “You should probably wash it.”

He looked at me strangely, and I was relieved to see some of the wildness gone from his eyes. My Michael was finally returning from whatever Hell he’d been in most of the night.

I cleaned as much of the blood out of his hair as I could and then tossed the rag into the dying fire. More out of habit than anything else, I pushed back his cowlick, smoothed it down and then dropped my hand to my side. We considered each other in silence, and I would have given anything to know what was going through his mind. His eyes searched mine for several long moments. Finally, he dropped his gaze from my face and walked around me.

“I’m leaving and you’re not coming with me.”

He moved quickly about the room gathering his things and stuffing them into his bag while I fought to recover from the shock of his announcement. He walked to the door and in an instant I was there, blocking his exit with my body.

“Get out of my way!” he snapped, his lip curling up in anger.

“You’re not leaving,” I stated simply. “I won’t let you, even if I have to hurt you to prevent it. But I’m begging you Michael, please don’t make me do that.”

He growled in enraged frustration, knowing that my threat was credible, and moved swiftly to the window. In another instant I was there, once again blocking his exit from the room.

 _“Why won't you let me leave??!!”_ he shouted angrily. He slammed his bag onto the floor and backed away from me. “You’re an idiot, Daniel, a fool, for trying to keep me here! You’re like a mongrel that’s been kicked in the ribs and starved, yet you blindly lick the hand of the one responsible! You deserve better than me and you’re too stupid to realize it!”

I couldn’t believe we were having this argument yet again. I thought we’d resolved this issue back in England. “Neither one of us is perfect, remember? We both have flaws, but our love for one another transcends those flaws.”

He laughed derisively and shook his head. “Flaws?? I raped an innocent woman tonight. I drank from her and then I ripped her body to pieces while she was still alive. I’m not flawed.” He stopped momentarily, and when he resumed his voice trembled pitifully. “I’m broken. I’m beyond fixing.”

“That’s not true,” I said softly, moving closer to him. “I refuse to believe that.”

A look of immense sadness stole over his face. “Please let me leave,” he implored. “You deserve someone worthy of your love. Please, just let me go.”

“We’ve been through this already,” I said, struggling to keep the frustration and anger out of my voice, because now was not the time to lose my temper. “I’m a grown man, perfectly capable of determining what or who I deserve. That is not your decision to make. I can’t conceive of my life without you. You’ll hurt me far worse if you leave. I know you don’t believe that, but I’m the only one who knows my heart, and I’m telling you, it would surely break if you walked out that door. Please don’t do that to me.”

As I watched, all of the fight went out of him. He visibly deflated, his shoulders slumped and he looked everywhere but at my face. I knew I’d won. He was staying.

“Did anyone see you?” I asked.

“No,” he whispered hopelessly, his lips barely moving.

“Did you conceal the body?”

“Yes.”

I sighed in relief. The threat of discovery was always a concern when your food supply was the local populace, and even more so when you killed with as much ferocity as Michael did. "Was she the only one?”

“Yes.”

I put my arms around his shoulders and gathered him against me, holding onto him as tightly as I could. His arms hung stiffly at his side, as he stubbornly refused to return my embrace. It took him a while, but eventually he slid his arms around my back and held onto me just as tightly. Nothing was said between us; there was no need for words. I knew that he still felt unworthy of my love, just as he knew that I would never turn my back on him, no matter what he did. He didn’t understand my devotion but accepted it, albeit reluctantly. I didn’t fully understand what drove the demon inside of him that caused him to commit such atrocities, but I accepted it as just another facet of the complex man that I loved.

“It grieves me that a family will suffer because of me,” he whispered sadly.

I pulled back from him and cupped his face in between my palms. “Do you not see, Michael? The fact that you grieve means that there is hope for you. If you felt nothing, had no remorse for your actions at all, then I wouldn’t want you to stay. You truly would be beyond saving.”

I leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his face from me just as our lips touched for the briefest moment. “How can you do that? How can you even stand to touch me knowing what I did this night?”

I answered him, not with words, but with a deep and lingering kiss—a kiss that tasted faintly of blood. I smelled her scent on him, in his hair and on his skin, the scent of sex and sweat and terror. I tasted her on his mouth, but none of that mattered. The overpowering scent of my mate filled my senses with exotic spices, the faint smell of aged leather and the warming comfort of chocolate. I loved this man in my arms, and there was nothing he could ever do to lessen that love.

We pulled apart, and for the first time since he’d returned, he touched me willingly. He placed his palm tenderly against my neck, his thumb idly stroked back and forth along my jaw. “You are my strength. Before I met you, I would have never stopped with just one killing.”

I smiled to myself at how blind Michael could be when it came to his own goodness. He’d saved my life, nursed me back to health from the brink of death, and even killed to avenge and protect me. He’d helped me heal from the trauma inflicted upon me by Samuel. He’d loved and accepted me for who I was without judging me. The man had more inner strength and capacity to love than ten ordinary men put together. I wasn’t the reason he’d stopped, but pointing that out to him would be useless. He’d vehemently deny it and continue to give me all of the credit for changing his life.

“We are each other’s strength,” I said, which was the truth. I wouldn’t be the man I was now if I’d not had his help and support.

Michael was suffering. I understood that now. The pain and shock of seeing his mate murdered in front of him was eating away at his soul. Grief and loss, as well as an inability to seek revenge for her death, were fueling his compulsion to kill innocents. He’d been correct in saying he was broken, but he wasn’t beyond fixing. I was determined that I would help him heal, just like he’d helped me. I’d felt the liberating freedom of life without the pain and sadness of my past. I wanted that same freedom for him.

“I think that we should leave Egypt,” I suggested. “There are just too many memories in this place. It’s not good for you to be here right now.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, nodding. “We’ll leave tomorrow evening at dusk.”

“Where should we go?” I asked.

For the first time that day, he smiled, just barely. But that tiny smile was enough to give me hope. Michael was going to be all right. By curbing his impulses and only committing one murder, he was already starting to heal. It was going to take time, patience and love to get him through this, but lucky for him, I had all three in great supply.

“You choose this time,” he answered.

 


	19. This Has to End: a Michael and Daniel One-Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LOOK BACK: Michael and Daniel have been traveling the world since they left Edmund’s estate. Egypt was their first destination (their adventures were told in a series of four Egyptian vignettes). After they left Egypt, they wandered the European and Asian continent together, stopping at whatever place took their fancy, while studiously avoiding England. Finally, Daniel convinces Michael to venture back into England and into the teeming population of London, which affords them a measure of anonymity. The issue addressed in this one-shot is a pivotal one in their relationship.

_**October 10, 1651 - London** _

 

**~ DANIEL ~**

Couples filled the floor until there was barely room to move. I drew back and leaned against the wall to watch. Men were dressed in all manners of finery; the women’s voluminous dresses swirled to the music. It was all meant to be very exciting, but I cared not a rat’s arse about it or for the various men and women who’d thrown provocative glances my way all evening. I only had eyes for one person in the room: Michael.

He was dancing with a woman he’d been eyeing all evening. She was very small and delicate, with long dark hair upswept into a pile on the back of her head. I knew why he was so interested, why his eyes had never left her form the entire night. She reminded him of Asha. All of the human women Michael gravitated to always resembled her in one manner or another. The woman was going to haunt him for eternity and there was nothing I could do to change that.

I dropped my gaze to the woman’s waist, where his strong hands gripped her tightly, hands that I knew could rip a man to pieces one minute and then draw moans out of my throat with their tenderness the next. I would much rather him have had his hands on _my_ arse at that particular moment, but we had an agreement about women and I was, once again, going to honor it, even though it was getting more and more difficult with each passing year to do so.

As the two of them twirled about the room his eyes never left the woman’s face. _Yes, he’s definitely enthralled with her, and yes, he’s most likely going to fuck her before this night is done, and he’ll kill her because she’s too damned fragile! Can’t he see that?!_ I sighed at the knowledge that this woman’s life was soon to be over and that there was nothing I could do about it, just like there had been nothing I could have done about the nine women before her.

The first year this had happened, we’d been in Cairo and I’d been a newborn. Consumed with guilt over killing an Egyptian woman, he’d attempted to leave me, but I’d been strong enough at the time to stop him. Subsequent years had been quite different. My strength had waned until it had matched his, just barely. Any attempt to stop him had resulted in heated arguments between us that had threatened to turn violent, and when Michael was enraged he was frightening, even to me. I’d backed down each time rather than risk a physical fight with him, not because I was afraid of being hurt, but because I simply couldn’t bear the thought of striking him, even in self-defense. Arguing was something we did quite often, and neither one of us took our disagreements seriously, but actually exchanging blows with him was unthinkable. I sighed aloud in frustration, and then settled back against the wall to observe the room in peace, until I was rudely interrupted.

“That man you keep staring at, is he yours, perhaps?”

I turned to find a stranger standing at my side. He was a very big man, nearly my equal in girth and only a slight bit taller in height. Light hair, gray eyes, well-dressed and very well-mannered from all I could tell in those few short moments. A gentleman.

I answered simply, “Yes.”

He extended his hand. “The name’s Frederick.”

“Daniel,” I replied, returning his handshake.

The man then shifted his attention to the dance floor and to Michael. We watched them twirl about for awhile in the companionable silence of two people who’d just met and who didn’t really have much to say to one another.

“He’s very…innocuous. I suppose that’s the word I’m looking for.”

I glanced to my right and Frederick’s eyes were as fixed upon Michael as his were upon the woman in his arms. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his ignorance. “Innocuous? Don’t be fooled, my friend. Looks can be very deceiving.”

His eyebrows raised in speculation. “Aah, now you’ve piqued my curiosity.” He smiled mischievously, making it impossible for me to dislike him. I had no idea why I was even bothering to talk to him except for the fact that he seemed a very personable man and I was bored out of my mind.

“I don’t kiss and tell.” I chuckled. “Use your imagination.”

“I think I will. Thank you for the suggestion.”

He grinned and turned his attention to Michael once again. It was strange that instead of being jealous, I took great pleasure in watching him ogle my lover. Michael would never give him the time of day, so his efforts were all for naught. He had no way of knowing that, of course, which made me enjoy watching him even more.

“He doesn’t seem to be your type.” He swept his pale gaze up and down my body, which stirred absolutely no feelings in me at all. “You’re a very masculine fellow. He seems too… _delicate_ …for you.”

I laughed again. “He is the farthest thing from delicate there is. Trust me.”

He considered my comment and then frowned. “A question, if I may pry into your private affairs?” His eyes were still fixed on the two of them. The music had slowed, and they’d drawn closer to each other. The woman’s hand had slipped up to his neck, and his had slipped lower down from her waist. I thought Michael was getting a bit too free with his affections in public, but there was nothing to be done about it at this point except butt in and tell him to keep his hands to himself, and there was no way I was going to do that.

“Why are you allowing him to dance with a woman if he belongs to you?” The man was truly mystified. He studied my face as I considered how to answer him.

I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not a simple-minded man. I think I can handle the complexity,” he said. “I must know, because if I were in your shoes, I would get him the hell out of here, and not just because of the woman, I might add. Many a _man_ in this room has had his eyes on him.”

 _Including you._ I ignored the last statement and focused on the part about the woman. “He and I have an agreement. He has a need to lie with a woman occasionally and I understand that need. When he desires it, I step away. Besides, he always comes back to me,” I explained. I turned to the man and added for emphasis, “Always.”

He frowned. “So, if he were to dance with every woman in this room, that wouldn’t bother you?”

“No,” I answered.

“And if he were to…uhm—I hope you will excuse my crude language—but if he were to fuck every woman in this room, that wouldn’t bother you either?”

I raised my eyebrows and pondered his question. “All in one night?” I asked. When he laughed, I joined him. “He’s good, but not that good. That would be one hell of an accomplishment, even for Michael.”

“So his name is Michael, is it?” the man mused. “’He who is of God’. That’s what his name means. A very beautiful name for a very beautiful man.”

I shot him a look, and he knew exactly what it meant. _Watch your step, my friend. You’re treading on dangerous ground._

Our conversation stopped. Michael and the woman were approaching us. Apparently they were taking a break from dancing. Michael’s gaze was fixed on Frederick. Oh, but he was so curious, which made me smile inside. I could see it in his eyes, that little hint of jealousy that he found so annoying in himself, but which I simply adored.

“Daniel.” Michael nodded politely and held my eyes while doing it. Just the sound of his voice sent chills down my back, as it always had and always would for the rest of eternity. “Introduce me to your… _friend.”_

I introduced Frederick sans his last name which I didn’t know, nor did I care to know. The woman, it turned out, had a name as well: Hannah, which didn’t concern me either. All I cared about was Michael’s intense gaze which kept returning to my face. _Are you jealous, my dear wandering lover?_ Michael’s jealousy was so entertaining. I was rolling with laughter inside, but managed to keep my amusement off my face.

Michael and Frederick talked idly about things that held no interest to me or Hannah. As they conversed, she studied me warily with her huge sky-blue eyes. I wondered momentarily what color Asha’s eyes had been, but then chided myself for my stupidity. They’d been crimson, of course. Michael wasn’t interested in Hannah because of her eyes, anyway. It was her hair. He had a strange obsession with women’s hair, I’d discovered, after observing him for several years. Long, thick hair always seemed to catch his eye. He preferred it to be dark, but flaxen-hair had been known to snag his attention as well. Hannah’s hair was dark and thick, and I imagined Michael was dreaming of running his fingers through it as he fucked her later on tonight.

“Michael, I love this song. Let’s dance.” Hannah’s soft feminine voice interrupted the conversation taking place between him and Frederick. He glanced at me, not exactly asking my permission, but still giving me the consideration of objecting if I wished to. It was the way things worked with us. He never just assumed I’d be comfortable with his dalliances with women, and for that I was greatly appreciative. I’d never voiced an objection before, and tonight wasn’t any different. I gave him an imperceptible nod that let him know I was fine with whatever he wanted to do with the rest of the night. But truth be told, these trysts of his were disturbing, and growing more so as the years progressed. They returned to the dance floor and I returned to my leaning against the wall.

“What an interesting man,” Frederick mused beside me.

“Yes, he is,” I agreed without elaborating. Frederick had no idea how intriguing a man Michael truly was. I was only beginning to scratch the surface of the man that lay beneath that benign exterior. He’d seen so much, and experienced more in his lifetime than I ever would. I could sit for hours and listen to him recount stories from his past.

“He’s very well-traveled,” Frederick continued. “He’s been to Egypt and finds it as fascinating a place as I. It would be most enjoyable if we could have a lengthier conversation on the subject without any interruptions. Might we get together on the morrow? Would you mind that?”

Unbeknownst to him, Frederick had just stepped over the line. “Would you mind if I ripped off your cock and stuffed it in your ear?” I asked him politely.

He stood up straighter, eyes wide, heart racing, as he tried to decide if I was jesting. Then he relaxed and smiled, apparently fooled by my wide-eyed innocent look. “I think I might find that rather unpleasant.” He chuckled. “My apologies for over-stepping my bounds. It was just a thought.”

I nodded a silent acceptance of his apology and then we turned our attention to the action out on the dance floor once again. Nothing was said between us for a long time. Polite conversation wasn’t one of my talents, as Michael had told me on more than one occasion. He took great pleasure in pointing out that I had the social conventions of a hog at feeding time, after which I always felt a burning need to remind him of the size of hogs’ bollocks. It had eventually evolved into a fond joke between us, as the chances of me suddenly turning into a cultured fop seemed slight, if non-existent.

Michael was now kissing the woman, and in plain view of everyone in the room. I glanced around to see if anyone was alarmed by his forward behavior in such polite company. I really needed to get him out of here and quickly before he ended up fucking her on the floor in front of God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Mother, and everyone else in the room.

“Your man seems to have deserted you, Daniel.” Frederick’s comment interrupted my thoughts. “Perhaps you and I could…?”

He left the rest unspoken, but I knew his meaning. I would have preferred to stick my cock into a hedgehog’s arse as to spend any significant amount of time with my new “friend” Frederick, and thought about telling him so, but somehow I found my manners just in time. “I’ve become quite fond of my cock, Frederick. I’d really prefer it to stay attached to my body.”

My humor fell on deaf ears. He frowned. “So it’s quite all right for him to cavort with that woman, but you’re to stand here and simply hold up the wall? That doesn’t seem fair to me,” he said.

The man just didn’t get it. Michael would never take another man to his bed, and neither would I, not as long as we were together. He had my complete loyalty until my final death, and I his. “Women are just playthings to him, and I understand that. His dalliances with them don’t mean anything,” I explained. I felt like I was talking to a simpleton. Being a lover of men like me, which was plainly obvious to even a blind man, he should have understood this simple concept. “He can fuck all of them he wants, and I could too, if I had the inclination, which I don’t. But men are a very different story.”

If I’d even left the room with Frederick, Michael would have been at my side in an instant, with those strange eyes of his shooting fiery darts into my body everywhere they touched. Later I would suffer an arse-kicking that I would remember for the rest of my days. I smiled to myself at how fun that would actually be, but I wasn’t willing to instigate it by leaving with another man. I had other ways of rousing Michael’s temper without betraying him. And of course, if he acted similarly with another man, I would do the same thing to him. We had an understanding.

He shook his head, mystified, I supposed, at my logic. “I must say, you’re the strangest fellow I’ve met in a while. No man of mine would be allowed to even touch one of those hideous smelly creatures. How can you stand to be near him afterwards??“ Without waiting for my answer, he shrugged it all off and smiled. “Ah well, but it’s been a pleasure, and a very interesting conversation to say the least. If you change your mind about my earlier proposal, I’ll be around and easy to find.” He offered me his hand and then said his goodbyes. I dismissed him from my mind as soon as his back turned.

 _Time to get Michael out of here._ “Michael.” I spoke his name, and even through the noise and music, he heard me and turned to look in my direction. I motioned with my head for him to join me. He murmured his apologies to Hannah and left her side.

“What happened to your friend?” he asked.

“He wasn’t my friend. He was just a nosy fellow with a lot of questions. He expressed an interest in bedding me and I told him I’d rather fuck a hedgehog,” I answered, fighting to hold in my laughter. Michael was shocked, as I’d known he would be.

“You didn’t!” he gasped. “Must you always be so crude?”

And before he could continue scolding me, I laughed and denied it all. “I found my manners just in time, don’t worry. I simply hinted that you’d rip my cock off and that seemed to scare him away.”

He looked relieved and then that mischievous smile I loved so much blossomed on his lips. “I would never rip such a beautiful appendage from your body. Maybe your arm, or a leg, but not your cock. I don’t think I could go on living without it.”

I grinned. “Liar. You’d do it in a heartbeat and then throw it into the next country. I’d be running naked through the forest chasing it down and you’d be laughing your arse off at me.” He snickered at the vision I’d planted in both our minds. I wasn’t far off from the truth and he knew it.

“You’d do the same,” he observed, still smiling.

“Yes, I would.” I chuckled. We knew each other so well.

“I must get back to Hannah. She’ll think I deserted her.”

As he turned, I made a sudden decision without thinking it through. It wasn’t jealousy that made my mouth open and the words gush out. It was love. I loved him, and this had to stop. Tonight. “Don’t go back to her.” He halted and stared at me in confusion. After all, I’d given him my approval earlier and now I was taking it back.

“You indicated it was fine with you.”

“I know that, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to go home with _me_ tonight.”

Never had I made him choose. When he’d taken up with a woman, I’d stepped aside as we’d agreed and I’d let him have his dalliances. Of course he’d killed them all, which was wrong in the most fundamental way anything on earth _could_ be wrong. He hadn’t been thirsty, and they’d been innocent, and he’d always been eaten up with guilt afterwards. Plus, the killing had gotten progressively more violent and brutal with each successive woman. But I’d said nothing about it. I’d promised long ago never to judge him, and I’d kept my promise, but the guilt from these killings was weighing much too heavily on him for me to turn a blind eye any longer. It was killing the beautiful man that Michael Golland was inside. His soul was living on borrowed time. This had to end.

I waited anxiously to see if my feelings would take precedence over this woman’s, and I was not as confident as I should have been. This could go either way. If he chose her over me I wasn’t sure what I’d do. There was a nearly imperceptible tightening of his jaw and his eyes took on a hard glint. He was angry with me, but he was keeping his temper in check since we were surrounded by people. It seemed like hours passed as I waited for his decision.

“Very well,” he said, his voice tightly controlled. “I’ll say my goodbyes to Hannah and then we’ll leave.”

The walk back to our rooms was unpleasant, and it shouldn’t have been. A slight breeze kept the night air from being stifling. The sky was clear and the moon was nearly full. Any other evening, he and I would have engaged in quiet conversation as we walked. Not tonight. He never once glanced my way, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. The wind blew his hair and caused his cowlick in the front to stick out. I ached to reach out and smooth it down, as I had countless times since we’d met, but my hand meant as much to me as my cock. I wanted to keep it. Michael didn’t lose his temper nearly as often as I did, but when he did, he was frightening. I tended to shout a great deal and get obnoxious, whereas Michael simply became violent. I’d learned to keep a healthy distance from him when his anger was roused, as it was now.

We arrived at our rooms in record time. I expected him to slam the door behind us, but instead he closed it gently. My senses went on instant alert. I watched him warily as he turned and stared me down.

“Well? We’re here. What do you want to do? You want to fuck?”

Oh, yes. He was going to be a complete horse’s arse about it. I had to tread carefully from this point on, and just keep remembering why I was doing this. I loved the man, and he needed my help, even if he didn’t know it yet. “No. I just want to talk.”

“About what?” he snapped.

I’d thought about what I was going to say the entire walk home, but that didn’t make it any easier. I gathered my courage and met his eyes. “The women. It needs to stop.”

His eyes darkened. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it your idea? You said if I wanted to have sex with a woman, you wouldn’t stand in my way, and now you’re standing in my way! It’s not like I do this every day!!” His voice had risen by the time he’d reached the end of his sentence.

“This isn’t about sex and you know it,” I responded quietly, careful to keep my voice calm and in complete contrast to his.

“You’re right! It isn’t! It’s about you wanting my head stuck up your arse every moment of every day! This is none of your business!”

“That’s ridiculous, and it is my business. You need to take a good hard look at what you’re doing and the reasons why you’re doing it.”

He took a few steps forward until he was closer to me. Too close to suit me, but I wasn’t about to back away. “What am I doing, Daniel? Tell me. I’m sure you have everything all figured out, all wrapped up in a nice package and ready to toss in my face.”

Damn, but he was defensive. “That’s not true. I’m not judging you, no matter what you think.”

He backed away a step or two, but still kept his angry, glittering eyes glued to my face. “Then tell me. I’m listening.”

My senses were on alert; every muscle in my body tensed and prepared for a fight. I clamped down on my instincts and forced myself to relax. I couldn’t afford to let loose of my temper tonight. Not if I was to help him. “Do you not realize that it’s always close to October 15th when you get these urges to be with women?” I asked hesitantly. “A week or two in either direction?” We’d never actually discussed the significance of the date, but I felt sure that he was aware of it.

“So?”

That one word came out almost as a snarl. I felt like a man must feel while trying to kiss a snake. I was praying like mad that I wouldn’t get bitten and wondering why in the hell I’d even attempted it in the first place. I tensed all over once again, my body refusing my commands to make it relax. My protective instincts were too powerful and I couldn’t tamp them down. I was treading on very dangerous ground now. “And that all of these women resemble Asha in one way or another?”

A dangerous stillness settled over Michael. He was extremely angry, defensive, and on the edge of a violent outburst. I recognized the signs in him, but I stood my ground. I was not going to back down, no matter the cost to me.

“It’s a coincidence,” he said, his voice ominously quiet, and his hard stare still fixed on my face.

I couldn’t believe he was denying the significance of the date or the fact that they’d all reminded him of Asha! I held his eyes and pressed onward. “No it isn’t. The first one in Egypt had very long hair, dark and thick and silky. The second one was very tiny and delicate. The third one had blond hair, but she was very small-boned, and I could go on, but I won’t. This isn’t about you having sex with just any woman. This is about you having sex with Asha. She’s dead, Michael. Asha’s gone and you’re never going to find another like her,” I finished softly.

The blow came out of nowhere, too fast for me to evade it. His fist plowed into the side of my head, near the temple. If I’d been human, it would have killed me instantly. Instead, it just stunned me momentarily, and jarred the bones in my body from the point of impact clear down to my feet. I grunted in pain and staggered to the side, but managed to keep myself upright. I stood up tall and bravely met his eyes. They were flaming hot with fury.

“Don’t say that to me,” he said, his voice low and deadly.

“Hit me all you want. Tear me limb from limb. Throw a lamp on me and burn my body to ashes, but it won’t change the truth,” I said quietly. “What you’re doing is eating you up inside and you have to stop.”

He snarled viciously. I tensed just as he pushed at my chest with both hands and slammed me back against the far wall. Pain shot through the back of my head where it struck the bricks with enough force to send pieces of them crumbling to the floor in a cascade of red powder. He was on me in seconds, his face in mine, his eyes dancing with an evil light that I recognized and feared. “You don’t know anything about what’s inside of me!!” He was livid, so much so that he was barely able to push the words out between his clenched teeth.

I gritted my own teeth, pushed aside the pain of his iron fingers digging into my shoulders like ten sharp knives, and resisted the overwhelming urge to fight him off. “I know that you suffered a terrible trauma and that you’re hurting!”

“You have no fucking idea what I suffered! You know NOTHING!!!”

I tried to shift my weight, to get some relief from the pain of his hands crushing me against the rough bricks, but none was to be had. I couldn’t move my upper body at all. “I know that you lost what meant the most to you in the world! And you think that I have no idea what’s that’s like?? I feel like I’m losing you every single time you do this, Michael! It has to stop before there’s nothing left of the man you used to be! Before there’s nothing left inside of you to save!!”

“There isn’t anything inside of me to save to begin with! When will you get that through your thick fucking skull?!!”

That was when I snapped. My temper roared to life like a raging beast. I was so god-damned sick of hearing him say that about himself. I rammed my knee into his groin with enough force to send him to his knees in agony. He crumpled into a ball and fell. I nearly weakened at seeing him writhing on the floor, but my temper was at a full rolling boil and not even my lover’s pain could calm it.

“You say anything like that again and I swear to God I will kick the shite out of you! I’m tired of hearing it, Michael! It’s a fucking lie and I’m fucking tired of hearing it!!” I kicked a nearby chair and sent it crashing against the far wall. It clattered to the floor in a pile of jagged wooden splinters. “You want to fight me for having the fucking gall to care about you?? Fine! Get the fuck up and we’ll go at it right now!! Get your hands off your aching bollocks and stand up and fight me!!” I kicked another chair, launching it across to the other side of the room and demolishing it into pieces. “Get up!! Come on, Michael! Get the hell up and kick my arse for loving you!!”

He rolled over and eyed me warily from the floor. I don’t know what he saw when he looked up at me, but whatever it was gave him pause. He scuttled away from me slowly, backed away until he was near the door. I watched him curiously, wondering how the tables had suddenly gotten turned on us. I was the raging bull now, and he was the one keeping a safe and cautious distance. He rose slowly from the floor into a standing position, all the while keeping his eyes glued to mine. He said nothing.

“You are so God-damned selfish!” I shouted. My words bounced angrily off the brick walls surrounding us, sounding much too loud for the small room. “Did it ever occur to you that it hurts me horribly when you say things like that about yourself? Did that ever enter your mind?? You’re my mate and I can’t stand seeing you in any kind of pain. When you suffer, I suffer! Do you hear what I’m saying?? _I SUFFER!!_ And I can’t take it any longer! It’s hurting me as much as it’s hurting you and you don’t even seem to care!”

His mouth dropped open in shock, and then he snapped it shut. “I’m _not_ your mate!” he retorted, ignoring the rest of what I’d just said.

“Yes, you are!” I insisted hotly. “You are, and I don’t care if you don’t believe me. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. You are to me what Asha was to you. Could you have stood aside and watched her suffer? Could you have stood seeing her in pain?? No, you couldn’t have, and neither can I. This has to end, Michael, because if it doesn’t end I’m leaving you. It will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I will do it if this senseless killing doesn’t stop.”

He visibly stiffened, pressing his lips together in a thin, angry line. “You’re giving me an ultimatum now?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly. “So much for not judging me. Where are your pristine white robes? You seemed to have forgotten to put them on this morning.”

I shook my head sadly. “I’m not judging you. I’m just letting you know that I can’t stand by and allow this to happen year after year without doing anything about it. My conscience will no longer let me stay silent. I’m not your mother or your father, by any means. I can’t tell you to stop, like a parent scolds a child for sneaking a sweet before dinner. All I can tell you is that I can’t deal with this anymore. At this point, if I leave, I’m leaving to preserve my own soul, not yours.” I hesitated. “But I’d rather not leave. I’d rather help you heal, like you helped me. If you’ll let me.”

His arrogant smirk faded, replaced by silent confusion.

“You forced me to face my fear of horses and the memories those animals brought forth in me,” I explained, answering his silent question. “And then in Egypt, on top of the Sphinx, you helped me heal the last remaining wound from Samuel’s attack. I’ll never forget that night as long as I live. You were so gentle with me. You waited until the right moment, when my memories had faded past the point of terror and I would be able to stand being taken from behind without panicking.”

“I had my selfish reasons, never doubt that,” he said bitterly.

“Of course you did,” I agreed. “And there’s no shame in wanting pleasure from your lover, but I will not allow you to dismiss your part in my healing. Without you, I wouldn’t be the man I am now. And do you think I don’t have my own selfish reasons for wanting to help you now? Because I do! You’re my lover, my mate. I want to stay with you. I want us to be happy together. I don’t want to share you with anyone, especially women. How is that for selfish?? I’m no different from you in that regard. But, my overriding concern is for your soul. You need to let go of whatever is driving you to commit these atrocities once and for all. Let me help you with that. Please.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” he asked, snorting with skepticism. “Some things can’t be accomplished just because we wish it to be so.”

“We can start with you telling me why you do this,” I said simply.

His eyes suddenly darted away from mine. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t say ‘I don’t know’!” I snapped. “You _do_  know, you just won’t admit it! What goes through your mind when you’re with these women?”

He stared mutely at me until he could no longer bear to hold my gaze. He looked at the floor.

I pressed him harder. “Say it, Michael. Why do you choose these particular women?”

“Because I want them to be Asha,” he admitted. “I close my eyes and they’re her, if only for a little while. But then, eventually I open my eyes. I open my senses and the scent that rushes into my body is that of a stranger. The eyes looking back at me aren’t a beautiful crimson. Their hair isn’t as soft; their moans aren’t hers. That’s when I get angry. That’s when I start to hurt them. And then, somewhere along the line, they all begin to look like Aro and that’s when I kill them.” He stopped, sighed and tried to turn away from me. I held fast to his arm, forcing him to stay and continue. Without looking at me, he did. “When I get like this, my mind doesn’t work right. Everything is mangled and twisted. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. I’ve been this way for centuries, Daniel. You can’t fix me.”

I chose to ignore his pessimism, which, if pursued would only lead to more arguing and an escalation of my temper, because I was also sick of hearing that he ‘couldn’t be fixed’.

“There are many memories from my human past that are so faded now that it’s hard to recall them, but some are as crystal clear as if they happened yesterday.” He was still looking at the floor, which annoyed me. “Look at me, Michael.” He reluctantly brought his gaze up to mine. “Everything changed for me when I was twenty years old. Molly deserves a great deal of the credit for that. After a particularly bad fight with Samuel, she took me home and tended my wounds, as she always did.”:

 

_“You’re angry with me,” I said, stating the obvious. Molly hadn’t spoken a word since she’d ordered me to remove my shirt and sit down on the bed, so that she could slather me with her noxious potions, and poke and prod at me like I was a cow up for auction._

_“Now why would I have cause to be angry with ye?” she snapped. “It wouldn’t have a thing to do with the fact that ye seem awfully anxious to meet your maker and are doing everything in your power to hasten that meeting along, now would it??_ _Swaggering around this town flashing your eyes at men, spouting off nonsense aimed at making Samuel lose his mind and attack ye, drinking enough rum to drown a fish, bringing all manners of men to this house with ye, some of them looking like cutthroats themselves, and if I didn’t know ye better, I’d think ye’ve taken a liking to sleeping on the cold floor of the gaol instead of your own soft bed!”_

 _Molly had never been one to mince words and everything she’d said was the truth. If I ended up eye-to-eye with God tomorrow it wouldn’t bother me in the least. With the mood I’d been in lately, I’d probably spit in His face and demand to know why He’d decided to create me to begin with if He’d intended my life to be nothing but hell._ _“Then why are you bothering? Just take your smelly concoctions and go home!” I snapped spitefully. “They don’t work half the time anyway!”_

_“Of course they don’t work!” she shouted. “What’s wrong with ye, ain’t no potion on earth can fix, Daniel Tobias Hart!!”_

_My mouth dropped open in shock. Molly had never shouted at me, even when I’d annoyed her past the point of all patience. She slammed the bowl full of stinky goo down onto the bedside table, viciously wiped her hands on her apron and shot up from her chair. She stalked across the room and stood with her back to me. An angry silence filled up the room to bursting. I glared at her back, searching for something equally hurtful to say to her, but nothing came to mind._

_Finally, she sighed and turned to face me. “I’m sorry. It’s my love for ye that brings out my anger.” She crossed the room and sat down beside me on the bed. “But it’s true what I said. None of my medicines can fix ye, because it’s your **soul** that’s ailing ye.”_

_And that was supposed to be news to me??_

_“Listen to me, Daniel. Sadness and grief, bitterness and anger, all of them kill your soul. If ye keep your hurts inside of you there’s nowhere for them to go. Eventually, they fill you up, and then they begin to eat away at ye from the inside until there’s no goodness left in you. Ye have to let them out to make room for happiness. Ye have to share your hurts with someone ye can trust, talk about them, cry over them, whatever ye have to do to get rid of them once and for all, else you’ll never have room for joy in your life. Let me help ye. Talk to me.”_

 

“And that was what I did. I poured everything out to her that night. Every single thing that had caused me pain, as far back as I could remember, she heard it. And you can’t even begin to imagine how good it made me feel afterwards. You’ve kept all of this anger and hurt over Asha’s death inside of you for centuries and it’s eating you alive inside. You’ve got to let it out or the violence is never going to stop.”

“How do I do that?” he asked helplessly.

“The first thing you have to do is speak the one thing that’s causing you the most pain. With me, I had to come to the realization that the rape wasn’t my fault and that there was nothing I could have done to stop it. I had to actually say it and accept it before I could move on and deal with everything else. Whatever it is that you can’t face, you have to say it out loud before you can even begin to start to heal, because when you say something out loud, it becomes real and you’re forced to accept it. As long it stays silent inside your mind, you can always convince yourself that it didn’t happen, or you can twist it around to mean something else. You have to speak it aloud.”

I saw fear in his eyes at what I’d asked him to do. I’d been where he was right now. I knew how hard it was to let the words come out of your mouth, to finally give voice to the truth. It made you feel naked and afraid, and so very vulnerable.

I nudged him gently. “Say it. Out loud.”

His lips trembled slightly, the only emotion he’d allowed to show on his face. But his eyes spoke volumes. I’d never seen him so afraid since I’d known him.

“Say it.”

He pressed his lips together and grimaced, not in physical pain, but in expectation of the emotional pain to come.

“Say it, Michael.”

“Asha is dead and there’s nothing I can do about it,” he said in a ghostly whisper.

Finally, the one truth that he’d never faced had been spoken aloud. After that, the strong man that I’d grown to love so deeply fell completely apart. He slid slowly to the floor, brought his knees up underneath his chin, and cried. I’d never heard such sorrow given voice, inhuman wails of grief so profound that it tore at my heart. I gathered him against me and held him close as his body shook with the force of it. He clung desperately to me, his fingers digging hard into my arms, his face buried in my shoulder, as the pain of five centuries poured out of him. I’d never hurt for another person in my life like I now hurt for Michael. If I could have taken his pain and made it my own, I would have, but I couldn’t. All I could do was hold him and endure this temporary hell with him, secure in the knowledge that once it was all out of him, he would finally begin to find some peace.

Eventually the wailing stopped, but still he clung silently to me. Only then did I murmur assurances in his ear, letting him know that everything was going to be better from now on, that I wasn’t leaving him and that I was here for him for the duration of my life on this earth. After awhile, he finally pulled himself from my arms and leaned back against the wall, his forearms draped over his bent knees. He stared at me, held my eyes for the longest time.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” he admitted in astonishment. “I would have never believed it to be so.”

“You feel like an enormous weight has been lifted off of you, a weight you didn’t even realize was there until it was gone.”

“Yes, exactly,” he said, nodding. “I never realized that I hadn’t accepted her death. I mean, I witnessed it. How could I deny it? And I know in my heart that I can never avenge her death. Aro is too powerful. Why hadn’t I accepted that when I already knew it with a certainty??”

“As Molly told me, after I’d done my own share of crying, our mind is like a babe’s blanket. It swaddles us and protects us from things that we can’t handle. Your mind is much more powerful than most, so it doubly protected you.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” he said, abruptly changing the subject, and staring at the floor.

“You hit me? Really??” I laughed when he frowned up at me in annoyance. “I thought that was a breeze blowing in through an open window. I hardly felt it. You’re getting weak in your old age, Michael.”

“It’s not funny, and I’m truly sorry for it,” he insisted, ignoring my attempt to lighten the mood.

“Apology accepted, then. And I think I did quite a bit of damage to your bollocks, as well. Want me to kiss them and make them all better?” I joked.

That finally coaxed a small laugh out of him. “Maybe later.”

I settled my back against the wall and mirrored his pose: forearms across my bent knees, hands clasped together. “Have you noticed that you never talk about her? You’ve only told me the barest of details about her or your life together. So, tell me something about Mariasha, something funny. I don’t want to hear anything sad.”

And so he did. He’d still been human when they’d stopped for a visit in Venice. They’d decided one night to take a ride in a gondola, and Michael had wanted to steer the boat. Asha and Rhodes had objected, and had hired an official gondola driver, which had irritated him greatly. To get back at them, he’d spent the evening teasing them mercilessly. He’d called Rhodes several variations of her name in the middle of conversation: Niv, Bass, Lissa. She’d glared at him, which was all she could safely do with another human in the boat as a witness. Ripping his bollocks off hadn’t been an option, to her great disappointment. Asha had watched the exchanges between them with amusement and hadn’t interfered or fussed at him for teasing her best friend.

Then out of human stupidity, as he sheepishly admitted, he’d started teasing Asha. He’d commented on how attractive the woman was who had leased them their rooms, and he’d pointed out that she would have most likely let _her_ man steer the boat, as was the proper thing for a woman to do. He’d then gone on to expound on her beauty, her hair color, the fairness of her skin, her figure and finally her marital status. It had happened too quickly for him to be prepared. One moment he’d been snickering at Asha and the next he’d found himself plunging into the frigid waters of the canal. Asha had thrown him in the drink. He’d bobbed to the surface, mad as a wet hen, and had decided in a split second to make her regret her actions. He’d pretended he couldn’t swim, that he was drowning. It had been a race to see which of the two could save him first. He’d smiled to himself in smug triumph when Asha and Rhodes had both jumped into the water beside him and pulled his head above the surface.

“I was so proud of myself,” he said, laughing. “But the joke was on me. Well, actually it was on all of us. The gondola driver very dryly informed us that the canal was Venice’s sewer, and that the tide had yet to come in that night and take the waste out to sea. Basically we had jumped into a huge privy. It took days of scrubbing to get the smell out of my hair and off of my skin, enough so that Asha would let me back into her bed.”

“See? This is what you need to do. You need to talk about her. You need to share these stories with me, the happy ones as well as the sad ones. That’s how you begin to heal.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me talking about my wife all the time,” he said, avoiding my eyes.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. I’m not jealous of her, if that’s what you think. You can talk about her anytime you want, tell me anything at all about her or your relationship. In fact, I’m ordering you to do just that,” I said firmly. “No more keeping everything inside.”

“I miss her so much,” he said softly. “I wish I could talk to her again, just long enough to tell her how much I loved her, and _still_ love her.”

“I’m sure she knows that.”

Then I had a sudden inspiration. I couldn’t bring Asha back to life so that he could speak with her, but I could put her image to paper. Even though I was sure he remembered her features as clearly as he saw mine that very moment, I had to admit to a bit of curiosity. I wanted to see the woman who had so entranced Michael. I left his side and returned a few moments later with paper, charcoals and a box of pastels.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to draw Asha. Describe her for me.”

“You can do that??” he asked, astonished. “Without ever having seen her??”

“If your description is detailed enough, yes, I can do it,” I said, although I had no idea if I spoke the truth. I’d never drawn anything that I hadn’t seen with my own eyes at least once. I was curious to see if I could accomplish it, and get a close enough representation of her face to suit Michael.

And so we spent the next hour with him describing her and me sketching it out lightly on the paper. He’d point out a small deviation in some area of her face and I’d correct it until he was satisfied. Finally, I had a basic outline of her features, and then I used the pastels to fill in the color and shadows according to his patient instructions. When it was finally finished, he tenderly took the paper from my hands.

“That’s her. My Asha,” he said and then sighed. “You’re very talented. She looks real enough to speak to me.”

I watched him run a finger along the edge of her jaw, as if he were actually touching her skin. She was very beautiful, and I could see why he’d been mesmerized with her, and why he’d left his farm with her and had never looked back. If I had been a lover of women, this woman would have definitely turned my head. I would have followed her anywhere, just like Michael had.

“She was a great beauty,” I observed. “Her features are classic: those high cheekbones and her almond-shaped eyes tilted up just enough to give her an exotic look. She was stunning.”

“Yes, she was,” he agreed softly. “And not just on the outside. Her heart was as beautiful as her face. Can you do the same with Rhodes?”

“Of course.”

We spent another hour reconstructing Rhodes’ face. A fair-skinned woman with a wild, thick mass of light-brown hair, full lips and huge, beautiful eyes stared up at us when we were finished.

“My God, man,” I breathed in admiration. “No wonder you had a perpetual cock-stand.”

He jabbed me in the side with his elbow and took her picture from me. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s my pleasure, and if they begin to wear out, I’ll draw you another set, and another, and another.”

“I wasn’t just talking about the pictures,” he said quietly. “Thank you having the patience to help me, for not leaving or kicking me out of your life. I’m still not sure I’m deserving of such devotion, but I’m thankful for it, nonetheless.”

“You’re very welcome. Just remember to talk to me about her, and not just her, but about anything, and don’t keep your hurts bottled up inside of you. Things are going to get better from here on out if you do that one thing. I promise you that.”

He laid the pictures aside and grabbed my hand, threading his fingers tightly in with mine. “Tell me again why we came back to England?”

I smiled to myself. We’d had this same argument numerous times since we’d arrived in London. I grinned and counted off the reasons one-by-one with my fingers. “One: Because you love me. Two: Because you would do anything to please me. Three: Because I have you wrapped around my little finger. And four: Because if you didn’t come back here I’d never again run my tongue all over your arse, no matter how much you begged me to. Am I close?”

He stared at me, mouth agape in utter astonishment. You’d think that by now he’d be used to the claptrap that came out of my mouth, but every now and then I was still able to render him speechless…like now. I found it quite entertaining.

“I have never _once_ begged you to lick my arse!” he sputtered indignantly, finally finding his voice. “You do that of your own volition!”

“But you like it,” I said, leering at him. “Admit it.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You’re—“

“—incorrigible. Yes, I know.”

He shook his head again and chuckled beneath his breath. “Seriously, why did we come back to England, and don’t give me anymore of that arse-licking nonsense.”

I raised my last remaining finger. “Five: Because I’m going to visit Molly.”

 


End file.
